"Kill them!!!"
As the two of them approached, two groups of Freys instantly started a desperate fight in the lobby of Riverrun.
The young knight of the Frey family who was closest to the seat of honor took the lead in drawing his sword, but before he could even raise the sword above his head, he was stabbed through the waist by a cousin behind him who was drinking at the same table.
"Fuck you!"
The young man turned his head in disbelief to see who had shot Black Hand, but he was hit with a mace on the back of his head. He fell down on the long table with his sword, and saw Stranger just like that.
But the cousin who stabbed him in the waist didn't feel proud for long.
Before he could stand up, three swords pierced his chest at the same time.
As the battle continued, the entire hall automatically split into several small battlefields in a very short period of time, and Frey fell every few seconds.
It's not that no one tried to maintain order, but it was ineffective. After all, if it was just chaos, there might be a chance to stop.
The problem is...
Because the incident happened suddenly, no ambush was arranged on either side to mark the situation, and Freys in the entire hall were all wearing the same clothes!
Even the gray Li Hecheng Twin Towers emblem embroidered on the chest is the same.
This can't be blamed on them, after all, the Frey family has so many people that even Walder Frey himself can't remember how many descendants he has. As a result, they can only rely on the badges on their clothes to identify their relatives when they go out.
As a result, now, this has become everyone's nightmare.
A soldier under Aemon had just cut down the enemy. Before he could rejoice, he saw countless more people coming towards him from all directions.
One of our own or the enemy?
He lowered his head and looked at the sword still dripping blood in his hand, and then looked at the people around him. He couldn't tell the difference at all.
Not only him, but also the people around him can't tell the difference.
One of them asked tentatively, "Where are you from?"
"I'm from Master Aemon."
"Great, me too!"
Another person. "... Who is Aemon? I just sneaked in for dinner."
"Fuck! This must be an enemy, kill him!"
Soon, the unlucky guy who sneaked in for dinner was brutally killed by at least five or six swords.
The same situation is happening in every corner of the hall.
"Which side are you from!"
"I'm from Master Edwyn!"
"Fuck you, I'm also from Master Edwyn's side!"
The two of them were stunned for a moment and said in unison, "Then why the hell did you chop me?"
Out of anger... they started fighting again.
And in this bloody melee, two figures seemed to be particularly at home.
Edmure Tully held the Longsword lent to him by the young man from the Frey family, and he lost count of the number of Freys he had chopped down.
The enemy's blood covered his head and face, and his whole body felt hot.
His uncle Brynden Tully was standing back to back with him, and his fighting prowess was so strong that he didn't even look like an old knight who was nearly sixty years old.
A sword pierced the throat of a certain Frey. When he drew the sword, he knocked the dagger from another Frey's hand with the hilt of the sword, and then split the man's cheek with a backhand sword.
"These bastards can't help but fight!" Edmure leaned against Brynden's back, breathing heavily.
He had never killed so many people, not even in the War of Five Kings.
But... it's so damn cool!
On the other side, Brynden rarely scolded him.
"I told you, Freys are fucking cowards!"
The reason why they kill so happily is because unlike the Frey family, they don't need to distinguish between ourselves and the enemy at all!
Because the hall is full of Freys, and all Freys are enemies stained with the blood of Stark and Tully!
Is there anything more satisfying in the world than being able to kill Frey with impunity?
Both Tullys thought not.
So they rushed out again, killing everyone they saw without any scruples!
Completely different from the bloody scene in the center of the hall, in the most remote corner behind the main table, a comical sword fight was taking place.
Aemon Frey and Lyman Frey, the two highest commanders of the Frey family in Riverrun, chose to retreat quickly before the words "kill them" could even be heard.
The two people's judgments were surprisingly consistent.
It's such a mess, whoever rushes in is an idiot.
But because they were retreating in the same direction, the two figures collided with each other.
Lyman was the first to react.
He felt angry when he saw Aemon retreating parallel to him.
If I retreat, you will retreat too?!
Bah!
Coward!
But they still raised their swords at the same time and faced each other at a distance of about two steps.
"You traitor, the scum of the family!"
"Fuck you, the betrayer is clearly you!!!"
As a result, the two of them pointed their swords at each other, and neither of them took a step forward.
There was silence for a while.
Lyman tentatively took a half-step forward, and moved the tip of the sword forward a little. Aemon decisively took a half-step back, and the sword also retracted.
Lyman saw this and took the sword back again.
The main reason is that he is afraid that the tip of his extended sword will be cut by the opponent.
Aemon saw him sheathing his sword and took another half step forward. Lyman stepped back decisively. The two of them were in a stalemate at about two steps apart. One moment, you would pass the sword forward and I would retreat. The next moment, I would reach forward with the sword and you would give in. The range of movement was so small that it looked like an elderly person doing morning exercises.
Each of them tried their best to ensure that the other's sword would never touch their own, and their own swords would not be able to reach the other's.
Screams came one after another around them, and people kept knocking over tables and falling at their feet, or being stabbed by a sword and rolling past them. Blood flowed along the cracks in the floor to the soles of Aemon's boots.
But the two instigators were still making gestures in the air as if nothing had happened, not even looking at the Freys who were dying.
"Come here if you can! Lyman!"
"Come here if you can! Aemon!"
The two of them were shouting in the air, full of energy, and their postures were as if they were going to pounce on each other and eat the other alive in the next second, but neither of them was willing to take even one step forward.
Just when this farce seemed to go on forever, Lyman suddenly looked behind Aemon, as if he saw something terrifying, and his expression suddenly changed.
"Quick... look, behind you...
However, Aemon didn't even blink.
"You fucking want to fuck me?"
He sneered, not believing a word his nephew said, "If I look back today, my surname will not be Buddha..."
Boom!!
The words are not finished yet.
Aemon flew up without any warning, and then crashed into Lyman.
Mom, I'm free!
The two men fell to the ground at the same time and rolled into a ball.
Lyman, who was over forty years old, was hit so hard by the more than 100 kilograms of human flesh cannonballs that stars appeared in his eyes, and his face was also covered with a large puddle of sticky warm liquid.
With great difficulty, he pushed Aemon away from him. When he lowered his head, he saw that this guy was twitching like a fish on land, vomiting blood out of his mouth. The blood was gushing out like free tap water, and he also spit out pieces of internal organs from time to time.
Lyman's whole body froze, and the cold hairs on his back stood up.
It wasn't that he felt sorry for his uncle, but because when he pushed Aemon away from his body and struggled to stand up, a huge shadow had already enveloped him.
Looking up, he saw a fully armed Black-armored Knights standing in front of him, holding a one-handed Warhammer in his hand.
Randyll Tarly's personal bodyguard!
Fresh blood was still dripping from the hammer head, and he slowly raised it. His posture didn't look like he was trying to help him.
"Wait!!"
Lyman knelt on the ground and forced out an extremely ugly smile, "Remember, I invited you to dinner yesterday...
", Black-armored Knights said nothing, just raised the hammer above his head.
Eighty!
Lyman's entire face was sunken under Warhammer, and then he swiped with a hammer, sending his whole body flying up and hitting the Twin Towers flag hanging on the wall of the hall.
After a while, Lyman's body slid down the wall. The fastening buckle on the spire couldn't bear the force and broke together, and the entire huge twin tower flag fell with him.
The moment the flag fell down, the originally covered tapestry behind it was revealed.
Silver fish leaping on a red and blue striped background.
Ta... ta...
Black-armored Knights stepped forward and saw Lyman's body sliding to the corner. It must have been dead. Then he took back Warhammer with an expressionless face, turned around, and walked towards the crowd still fighting in the center of the hall.
Not a single word was said from beginning to end.
Black-armored Knights The moment they stepped into the battlefield, the Freys did not realize what was happening.
They just thought it was another guy in dark armor joining the melee. After all, the hall was full of people now. What was the difference between one more and one less?
But soon, the Freys' nightmare came.
The first Frey who bumped into him was holding up his sword to slash with a fellow member of his race who was not sure whether he was an enemy or a friend. Then he flew out like a trebuchet, knocking over three Freys who were struggling on the ground and rolling them into a ball. He could never stand up again.
Black-armored Knights didn't even stop.
Moving towards another small battlefield, Warhammer swept across, and Frey's head was dented with his helmet. The whole person spun twice in mid-air before landing.
The hammer continued to arc to the right with the momentum of its sweep, hitting the second Frey's chest. The sound of his ribs breaking almost drowned out the shouts of death around him, and the man collapsed before he even had time to scream.
A Frey finally realized the threat of Black-armored Knights and rushed over with a strange cry and raised his shield.
Black-armored Knights did not dodge or block, but mechanically raised Warhammer above his head, and then smashed it down.
The shield was broken in half, his arms were broken, Foyle's knees sank into the floor, and the light in his eyes suddenly disappeared.
Then keep moving forward.
The floor was dyed red wherever he walked.
But the Freys didn't run away.
Because they are already jealous.
The killing just now had made everyone lose their minds, and what was left was only a burning desire to kill, so burning that they could hardly see the blood on Warhammer, and they couldn't tell who was the real enemy!
Often when one Frey falls, two or three more Frey will pounce on him.
But facts have proven that courage is useless in the face of absolute strength.
After about a meal, the shouts of death in the hall began to fade away.
It's not because some people have regained their senses, but because there are fewer and fewer people who can stand up and fight.
At first, there were dozens of people hacking each other, then there were more than a dozen people stumbling around in the pile of corpses looking for opponents, and then, before each sword was swung out, they had to lower their heads to confirm whether they were living or dead, and every time they turned around, they had to confirm whether the person standing opposite was the last enemy.
The last enemy...
This is the only thought left in every living Frey's heart.
But who is the enemy?
So they could only continue to chop until no one around them could stand up anymore.
When Edwyn Frey pulled Longsword out of the waist of the last "enemy", he could not see anything in his eyes.
His eyeballs were bloodshot, and it seemed as if the entire world within his field of vision was dyed dark red.
He knelt on the ground and gasped for air. The fingers holding the sword hilt were stiff, and there was someone's flesh and blood embedded in the gaps between his nails.
There was a man's arm pressed under his knees. The man was still alive and his fingers were still twitching.
Then, Edwyn took out his dagger and struck again.
Phew.
The whole world is pure.
"Ha...
... ha..
Edwyn's chest rose and fell violently, and every breath caused the wounds on his body to hurt.
He knelt there and gasped for a long time, until the world in front of him gradually became clear from the blurry red.
Standing up with the sword in hand, his knees slipped in the pool of blood.
Looking around, all he could see were corpses wearing dark gray armor stacked up in piles.
It's all Frey...
He walked forward numbly, stepping on the already sticky blood, his eyes scanning the familiar or unfamiliar faces, his cousins, elders... Finally his eyes fell on a corpse at the bottom corner of the wall.
The part above the chest was pressed under the Twin Towers flag that slipped off the wall, and only the lower half of the body was exposed, but Edwyn recognized it immediately.
He stretched out his trembling hands to grasp the blood-soaked flag, and pulled it several times before lifting it off the body, revealing half of the head that had been almost smashed into the chest.
Edwyn knelt on the ground with a plop and shed two lines of scarlet tears.
"Why... why does it happen like this?"
He really couldn't figure it out. They were celebrating the defeat of Riverrun during the day, but now... everyone was dead.
Inexplicably, Edwyn suddenly remembered the wedding in Lihe City.
They also made a move at the banquet. The moment the wine glasses collided, they drew their swords and killed everyone who had no time to react.
Did the Stark family members wonder why a celebration turned into a funeral before they died?
Edwyn laughed hoarsely, like crying.
At this moment, the sound of soft footsteps came from a distance.
Take your time.
Edwyn turned his head stiffly and looked.
A red-haired Maiden is walking out of the shadows deep in the hall.
The hem of her long skirt gently brushed against the pool of blood on the floor tiles, leaving a trailing red mark.
The candlelight danced behind her, stretching the shadow very long, all the way to the body at Edwyn's feet.
Behind him were a dozen Black-armored Knights.
Maiden stopped in front of Edwyn and looked down at him slightly.
The candlelight came from behind, shrouding her beautiful face in shadow, revealing only a pair of blue eyes, smiling at Edwyn.
"Congratulations, Ser."
"You are now the first heir of the Twins!"