Tyrion Lannister had a dream.
In the dream, he was lying in his favorite brothel in Casterly Rock City, hugging each other. Two beautiful beauties were lying next to him, looking at him with adoring eyes.
"Lord Tyrion." The woman praised him repeatedly in his ear, "You are so amazing, my Lion."
"Yes." The other one also came over and drew circles on his chest with his fingers. "You are the smartest and most powerful man I have ever seen.
Tyrion laughed proudly and was about to do something when a strange smell suddenly wafted into his nose.
"Hey, honey, you smell like burnt clams." He couldn't help but tease.
As soon as I finished speaking...
Snap!
A loud slap across his face.
"How dare you beat the great Lord Tyrion Lannister!"
Tyrion opened his eyes suddenly and screamed subconsciously, his voice full of anger. "I will never pay you!
Not even a Copper Penny can!"
"No! You have to pay me back. If a Lannister has a debt...
But his voice stopped suddenly.
Because there was no top beauty in front of him, only a dirty little girl squatting in front of him, looking at him with a pair of big bright eyes.
Tyrion blinked and then remembered his current situation.
Fuck!
Under the gaze of the little girl, Tyrion, who had always been cheeky, turned surprisingly red!
After all, the other party regarded himself as a hero before...
"Ahem...
He cleared his throat, sat up pretending to be calm, and tried to put on an expression that said, "I didn't say anything just now." "Um... I just had a very bizarre dream. An apple seller Farmer not only gave me goods that were infested with moths, but also beat me for no reason."
However, in the face of Tyrion's explanation, the expression on the little girl's face did not change at all. She just stated very calmly. "It's on fire."
Hearing this, Tyrion was stunned for a moment.
"What?"
"It's on fire." the little girl repeated, then raised her finger to the top of her head.
Tyrion looked up following her finger and was immediately stunned.
I could see that there was indeed thick smoke seeping in between the thick wooden boards and stone bricks at the top of the cellar.
Large swaths of thick smoke spread along the ceiling like gray tides, carrying a pungent burnt smell.
The firelight shines through the gaps between the wooden boards, flickering on and off, like eyes opening in hell.
"Fuck!"
Tyrion suddenly jumped up from the ground, his movements were not like a Tyrion at all.
He raised his head and stared at the thick smoke and fire, his mind spinning rapidly, and then he looked around again.
The cellar was not big, about the size of an ordinary bedroom. The walls were made of rough stone bricks, which felt damp and cold to the touch.
Apart from a few broken wooden boxes and rotten sacks piled in the corner, there was only a bucket of urine that had been fermenting for who knows how long.
A dozen children huddled together on the other side of the cellar, their faces full of fear.
Thick smoke billowed above their heads, like a huge gray hand, slowly pressing down.
But fortunately, they are all children. Although the thick smoke has gathered above their heads, it is still some distance from the ground. As long as they don't stand up, they won't be choked by the smoke for the time being.
Of course, it's okay for Tyrion to stand up.
But this is not a long-term solution.
The fire will get bigger and bigger, and the smoke will eventually fill the entire cellar.
Until then...
Tyrion, who was helpless, gritted his teeth and strode to the entrance of the cellar, "Is there anyone there!!!"
The sound echoed in the cellar, causing several children to cover their ears.
No response.
"Open the door!!!" Tyrion roared again, his voice hoarse and sharp. "You can't sell us for money if you burn us to death!!!"
This time there was a response.
It was not human voices, but footsteps coming from the corridor outside the door, getting closer and louder.
Then... click!
The wooden door was violently opened, and a puff of smoke and heat rushed in, almost knocking Tyrion to the ground.
He got up and carefully looked outside, only to see a man standing outside the door, wearing a dark blue knight's uniform, but several holes had been burned out of the clothes, his face was covered with soot, and a small piece of his hair was singed.
"Ser Balman?"
Tyrion immediately recognized the person who came, it was the wimp from Stoke Worth who didn't even dare to breathe in front of his wife.
Why did he come here?
But Balman had no explanation. Seeing Tyrion's huge and ugly head, he seemed to be relieved and shouted, "Come out! Come out! Quick!"
As he spoke, he seemed to have exhausted all his strength, and he became unsteady and stepped back.
Tyrion was stunned for a moment, and instinctively wanted to be the first to rush out.
But by some strange coincidence, he looked back and saw a dozen children crowded at the other end of the cellar. The eldest boy was holding the youngest girl, protecting her in his arms. The children were all looking at him eagerly, or at the glimmer of life outside the cellar door.
But no one dared to move.
They are afraid because they don't know whether this door leads to life or death.
Seeing this, Tyrion gritted his teeth.
"You go first!"
He yelled at the kids so loudly that he even started to panic.
But the children still didn't move.
"Go away!!!" Tyrion roared again, pointing to Balman outside the door. "He is a servant of the great Tyrion Lannister, and he will not hurt you!"
"Get out! Run! Run outside! Don't look back!"
Hearing this, the oldest boy finally moved.
He picked up the little girl and ran to the door staggeringly. Under his leadership, the second, third, and fourth came.
The children ran past Tyrion one after another. Some ran too fast and fell, but then quickly got up and continued running.
After the last child ran out, Tyrion turned around and climbed up the stone steps which were a little high for him.
Only then did he realize that the smoke in the corridor was very thick, and the firelight shone from the end of the corridor, dyeing everything a strange orange-red color.
The heat wave was rolling, as if a huge oven was baking the entire castle.
Turning around, he saw Balman leaning against the wall, his body constantly sliding down. The hand he was covering his lower back with a pale face was completely soaked in blood. The blood seeped out from between the fingers, dripping along the wrist and onto the ground, forming a small pool of dark red liquid on the stone slab.
"How the hell did you end up like this?"
"Get out of here, Tyrion!"
Balman still had no explanation, and yelled at Tyrion with all his strength, "Go find Lord Corleone and tell him... what I promised him... I did it."
Hearing this, Tyrion's frown deepened.
Corleone asked him to come?
Of course, this guy has always been a member of Corleone, and Flea Bottom is the jurisdiction of Balman.
The best choice at this time is to abandon this guy and leave first.
However...
"Fuck."
Tyrion cursed in a low voice, then bent down and grabbed Balman's arm.
But Balman weighs at least one hundred and fifty pounds, and Tyrion couldn't pull it up even a little bit with all his strength.
"You guys!"
Making a quick decision, he turned his head and shouted at the children who had already run out and stopped in the corridor, "Come here! Help him up!"
Hearing this, the children seemed a little hesitant. After all, Balman looked a bit vicious.
"He opened the door for us."
Seeing this, Tyrion immediately urged him sternly, "Otherwise you will all burn to death inside, get the hell over here!"
Hearing this, the oldest boy gritted his teeth, waved at his companion and rushed over.
They set up Balman one on the left and the other on the right, putting his hands on their shoulders and working together to exert their strength.
But Balman is too heavy.
Even if only half of the weight was on the two children, it was still difficult for them to walk. Every step was like trudging through a quagmire, but at least they were carrying him forward.
Time passed by, and obvious flames could be seen at the end of the corridor. Everyone's heads were covered with sweat, and every foot seemed like they had walked a lifetime.
Tyrion, who thought he was about to escape, was overjoyed, but he didn't wait for long...
The sound of uniform footsteps came, and then a dozen armed soldiers with spears in hand rushed over from another corridor, surrounding Tyrion and others.
Seeing this, Tyrion stood in the middle of the corridor, the sweat on his forehead started to drip again before he could wipe it off.
In front of him were a dozen soldiers holding long spears, the spear tips glowing coldly under the firelight, and behind him was a raging fire, with heat waves coming over him one after another, making his back feel hot.
Dilemma.
He squinted his eyes and looked at the soldiers' clothes in the firelight. They were all embroidered with the coat of arms of a white lamb holding a gold cup.
It's someone from House Stokeworth.
Tyrion suddenly breathed a sigh of relief and raised his hands, "Hey, relax, boys!"
"Your lord is here! Balman·Byrch Ser. He is seriously injured and needs immediate treatment. Get out of the way and let us pass!"
As he spoke, he pursed his lips behind him and pointed at Balman, who was being held half to death by two children.
A dozen soldiers looked at each other.
But the tip of the gun was still pointed at Tyrion, motionless.
The silence lasted for several seconds.
Then, a disdainful voice came from behind the soldiers. "Our monarch is Ms. Stokeworth, not named Byrch."
As the voice sounded, the soldiers stepped aside, and a tall and thin man stepped out.
Tyrion recognized him at a glance. He was the thin guard who had teased him in the cellar before. His pupils suddenly shrank slightly.
Figured it out.
Falyse is the mastermind behind it!
The child abduction and trafficking thing is definitely related to her!
But why did Balman come to save people?
He is the husband of Falyse, the son-in-law of Stoke Worth, and a vested interest in this matter.
Why?
Before Tyrion had time to think about it, a hand suddenly reached out from behind and pushed him aside.
Tyrion staggered and almost fell. He raised his head and saw Balman standing in front of him.
The fat man who was dying just now and couldn't even stand still stood up straight now, pushed away the two children who were supporting him and stood there alone, like a crumbling but extremely thick city wall.
The old fat knight's face was as pale as paper, his lips had no color at all, and his forehead was covered with cold sweat.
The wound on the lower back was still bleeding, and a large area of his pants had been soaked with blood, glowing with a strange dark red sheen under the firelight.
But he stood very straight.
Straighter than Tyrion had ever seen him in his life.
"Get out of here, you idiots."
In front of everyone, Balman spoke, "I... want to take them out."
His voice was hoarse and low, and every word was clear and full of unquestionable majesty.
Tyrion looked at the fat man's back from behind, and suddenly felt a sense of admiration.
He had never felt that this wimp Balman·Byrch was so domineering.
The pathetic guy who was submissive in front of his wife, the flatterer who nodded in front of Corleone, the fat man who was treated as a joke by everyone...
At this moment, standing between the fire and swords and guns, he looks like a real knight!
However, when the tall and thin man looked at Balman, the corners of his mouth curved even wider.
"Of course." His voice was full of frivolity, and he took a step forward, the tip of the gun almost touching Balman's chest.
"Of course those children can leave. They can be sold for money, and they are not cheap, especially the good-looking ones."
As he spoke, his eyes fell on Tyrion, and his smile became even colder.
"But this Tyrion doesn't work."
Then, the man pointed the tip of his spear at Tyrion's nose. "He... must die here."
This was said not only to Tyrion, but also to his companions.
Human trafficking is a serious crime in Westeros, punishable by death, and Tyrion's identity is too special. If Tyrion walks out alive, everyone present will be sent to the gallows.
But if Tyrion died in this fire, that would be another matter.
A Tyrion who was accused of regicide and his nephew was accidentally burned to death on the way to escape. What a perfect ending.
However, facing the provocation of the tall and thin man, Balman's voice suddenly rose in pitch. "I... it's Balman·Byrch!"
He punched his chest violently, and his long golden blood-stained hair swayed as his body swayed, like a wounded lion roaring.
"All of your wages are paid by me! I am the son-in-law of Stoke Worthberg and the heir to this territory. Without me, you would have fucking starved to death!"
However, facing the threat of Balman, the tall and thin man remained unmoved.
"We are only loyal to Mrs. Falyse. Unless she orders, no one can leave under my nose."
Hearing this, Balman was silent for a moment.
Then, he grinned and laughed with an almost crazy pride.
"Falyse·Stokeworth...
","I'll kill her!"
As soon as these words came out, all the soldiers were stunned.
The spear solidified in the air, and only the flames roared behind him, and the crackling sound seemed to applaud his announcement.
"You... what did you say?" Even the tall and thin man's voice was full of disbelief.
"I said, I'll kill her!"
Balman repeated it, his voice louder and firmer than before, "Falyse Stokeworth, my wife, your mistress, I killed her with my own hands - just now!"
"So now... I am the master of Stoke Worth!"
"Get out of here!"
Amid Balman's roar, the soldiers looked at each other with shock and bewilderment written on their faces.
The tall and thin man's face became extremely ugly, but it was quickly replaced by determination.
"Kill him!"
"Together with that Tyrion, kill them!"
"What?!"
As soon as these words came out, even a young soldier next to him couldn't help but exclaimed, "You want to kill even Ser Balman?"
"He killed Mrs. Falyse."
The tall and thin man interrupted him, his voice suddenly rising. "Did you hear it? He said it himself, he killed our mistress!"
"Balman·Byrch, this coward who depends on his wife for food killed his wife with his own hands and even set fire to the castle, but we arrived."
"We discovered his crime and tried to stop him. The murderer Balman·Byrch resisted and his accomplice... that Tyrion was killed by us on the spot!"
"Death has no evidence."
His voice became lower and lower, becoming more and more provocative. "The death of Mrs. Falyse, the fire in the castle, and the disappearance of these children are all the fault of Balman·Byrch."
"And we... are heroes."
"When the time comes, I forcefully marry that old bitch Tanda who can't even speak a word, and I will be Stokeworth Earl!"
As he spoke, he opened his arms as if to embrace the entire castle. "You, all be knighted!"
, this sentence is like a key, opening the lock in everyone's heart.
The soldiers' eyes suddenly lit up, full of greed.
They no longer hesitated and raised their spears again, aiming at Balman.
One step.
Two steps.
Three steps.
The soldiers began to move forward, their footsteps echoing in the corridor.
Tyrion instinctively wanted to retreat, but there was no way to retreat. There was a sea of fire behind him and the tip of a spear in front of him.
He raised his head and looked at Balman's back. "Are you... okay?"
Balman There is no looking back.
He touched his hand to his waist and slowly pulled out Longsword, which was stained with the blood of himself and his wife.
"No?"
"Hahahahaha, are you kidding? I'm...
"Balman·Fuck·Byrch!"
His laughter echoed in the corridor, covering the roar of the flames. He raised his sword, pointing the tip of the sword at the soldiers, and his wrist was as steady as if it were made of steel.
The corner of his mouth opened into a ferocious smile, "Twenty years ago, even the fearless Barristan did not dare to confront me head-on!"
"Just because of you bastards...
"Even if I am eighty years old, I can easily chop you all into pieces like a cake!"
As soon as he finished speaking, there was dead silence in the corridor.
The soldiers stopped and looked at the fat man in front of them who was covered in blood and crumbling. For a moment, no one dared to step forward.
The opponent is completely different from the usual Balman·Byrch. The strong sense of oppression exuding from his body is even stronger than when facing the Kingsguard!
Even Tyrion couldn't help holding his breath while standing behind Balman.
When he was the Minister of Finance, he also heard that Balman was indeed one of the best knights in King's Landing when he was young. Of course, he didn't know whether he had ever fought against Barristan.
But judging from Balman's momentum at the moment, maybe this old guy can really...
Bang!
Under Tyrion's expectant gaze, without any warning, Balman fell straight forward and hit the ground face down with a dull bang.
The sword slipped from his hand and jingled a few times.
"Balman!" Tyrion screamed and rushed over to help him up.
But he is too heavy.
Tyrion used all his strength to only lift his shoulders an inch off the ground, and then fell back heavily.
"Get up! Get the fuck up!"
"Aren't you Balman·Fucking·Byrch? Aren't you afraid that even Barristan would fight you? Get up!
You should get up for me!"
The corridor was quiet for a few seconds.
Then, the tall and thin man chuckled disdainfully, "It almost scared me...
"Balman·Stupid·Byrch."
As soon as these words came out, the soldiers also laughed one after another, like a group of hyenas sharing their prey.
Immediately afterwards, the tall and thin man spoke again, "It's time to work!"
"Catch the small ones, keep the valuable ones, and throw the worthless ones into the fire."
At his order, the soldiers began to move forward, the tips of their spears glowing coldly under the flames.
Tyrion squatted next to Balman, who was obviously unconscious, his heart beating wildly in his chest.
Already... there is no way out.
Looking around, seeing the fearful eyes of more than a dozen children, he gritted his teeth and reached out to reach for the sword Balman that fell to the ground.
Hold the sword hilt tightly and stand up.
However, the sword was too long for him, and the tip of the sword almost dragged on the ground. His arms were not long enough or strong enough to even lift the sword flat.
But Tyrion gripped the blade tightly and roared with gritted teeth, "Come on... Come on you bastards!"
"I'm Tyrion fucking Lannister, and I killed thousands of Stannis's men at the Blackwater!"
"Come on!"
However, his roar was not as effective as Balman just now.
The soldiers looked at him with mocking expressions on their faces.
A Tyrion is holding a sword longer than his body, and in front of him are a dozen fully armed soldiers.
This scene is really ridiculous.
The tall and thin man even ordered coldly and without mercy, "Kill him."
The two soldiers at the front raised their spears and thrust forward. Tyrion faced the opponent's attack and swung his sword with all his might!
But his hands were too short, and the sword he swung could not even reach the barrel of the spear...
However, just when the tip of the spear was about to touch Tyrion's chest.
Whoosh!!!
A black shadow flew out from the firelight at the end of the corridor, as fast as a black lightning.
Poof.
A soldier's throat was penetrated by something.
He looked down and saw a pitch-black sword blade coming out of his throat, with a strange ripple pattern flowing on the sword's body, shining brightly in the firelight.
The soldiers turned around in horror and looked towards the end of the corridor, where they saw a figure walking slowly towards the intersection of fire and smoke.
He is not tall, but every step he takes is as heavy as a thousand stones. Behind him, a gray-white cloak flutters gently in the heat wave, with a black hand stretched out from the shadow printed on it!
There is no sword in his hand.
Because his sword has been inserted into a soldier's throat.
But no one dared to move.
Because there was something invisible and heavy about that man that made people breathless.
Not murderous.
It's the kind of fear you instinctively feel when facing a creature that's much more powerful than you...!
The man walked through the flames, through the thick smoke, and through the shadows lengthened by the firelight.
Every step is not fast, but every step is steady, as steady as measuring the distance between life and death.
"Vito·Fuck·Corleone..." Tyrion muttered, his voice full of disbelief.
However, Corleone didn't look at him. He just walked up to the soldier with the sword pierced through his throat, held the hilt of the sword with one hand and gently pulled it out.
The sword blade was pulled out from the corpse, making a tooth-piercing friction sound, and then turned around to look at the soldiers.
The moonlight shone in from outside the arch at the end of the corridor, outlining a silvery-white outline behind him. His face could not be seen clearly in the shadow of smoke and fire, and only his dark eyes flickered in the firelight.
The soldiers began to retreat.
The spears in their hands were shaking, and some even had weak legs and could hardly stand still.
Not all of them know Corleone, but everyone knows the cloak with Black Hand Badge printed on it behind him, and they know exactly what it represents!
"Spineless."
The performance of the soldiers seemed to make Corleone very disappointed. He turned back and looked at Balman lying on the ground. Seeing that the other party's torso was still rising and falling slightly, a satisfied smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.
"I don't know why the castle was burned down, but... it was well done."
His voice was very soft, so soft that it was almost drowned out by the roar of the flames.
But Balman seemed to hear something.
His eyelids moved and his lips opened slightly, as if he wanted to speak but couldn't make a sound.
Corleone didn't wait for his answer.
He turned around and faced the remaining soldiers. Ms. Kongji turned it gently in his hand, pointing the tip of the sword to the ground. Blood beads slowly slid down the sword body and dripped on the stone slab.
"Everyone...
"Black Hand Mafia says hello to all of you."