"Beautiful!"
Although he was still unhappy with Corleone's status as a "Lannister lackey", the courage and skill he displayed still made Oberyn Martell couldn't help but whistle.
He clapped his hands gently, and the applause was particularly clear in the silent room.
"The Doctor, who is used to holding a scalpel, is also so comfortable playing the role of murderer."
"I'm starting to think you're a little interesting, Vito·Corleone."
As he spoke, Oberyn turned his head and looked casually at Petyr, who was standing in the corner.
"Please come here and be our judge, Baelish. This is your place, and it's fitting that you bear witness."
"Seven Gods, Your Highness!"
Petyr shouted exaggeratedly, spread out his hands, and took two steps forward as if helpless. "You are really..."
"As everyone knows, I don't like seeing blood. Just thinking about that scene makes my fragile heart feel uncomfortable."
"But since it is your request, how can I dare to refuse?"
But his performance was in vain.
Because few people present did not take a second glance at his extremely hypocritical face.
Oberyn's eyes fell on Corleone again, licked his dry lips, and said excitedly like a poisonous snake eyeing its prey, "So, which one comes first, you or me?"
Corleone spread out his right hand expressionlessly and replied matter-of-factly, "His Royal Highness is a guest from afar and is the initiator of this game. Naturally, I invite you to come first."
"Just in time, let me, a beginner, learn the rules of Blade Dance.
Hearing him say that he was a beginner, Oberyn immediately grinned and reached out to pick up the dagger.
However, just when his fingertips were about to touch the cold handle of the knife, Corleone's voice sounded again, "Wait a minute!"
"Why, are you scared?"
Seeing Oberyn giving him a doubtful look, Corleone just raised the corner of his mouth in a provocative arc. "No no...
"I just want to say that since we are at the gambling table, we might as well bet bigger."
"Bigger?"
Oberyn's bushy eyebrows were raised high, with an offended but extremely excited look on his face.
He really couldn't understand where this guy, who didn't even understand the rules, got such amazing confidence.
"What do you want?"
Facing his gaze, Corleone spoke clearly word for word, "It's very simple."
"If I lose, not only my right hand, but also my head can be taken back to Sunspear as a trophy if you wish."
He paused and his eyes suddenly became sharp. "But if I win...
"Win me?"
Oberyn laughed arrogantly, "I can't lose!"
Seeing his arrogant look, Corleone's tone remained calm. "Don't say it's impossible, nothing is impossible."
"Especially at the gambling table, no one can predict what will happen in the next second."
Hearing this, Oberyn's laughter stopped abruptly.
He narrowed his eyes slightly, showing a dangerous look. It was obvious that Corleone's almost blind self-confidence had completely aroused his competitive spirit.
He wanted to see what price this guy could offer.
"Okay!"
"Since you bet your head with me, then I will pay the same price!"
"No!"
As soon as these words came out, Ellaria on the side couldn't help but exclaimed, and pulled Oberyn's arm worriedly. "Oberyn! This is so crazy!"
She originally thought that the bet between the two of them was just what they had agreed upon before, but for some reason, it became more and more outrageous as they talked, and it turned into a bet of life!
However, Oberyn, who had been provoked to death, did not listen to her dissuasion at all.
He suddenly shook off Ellaria's hand, his face became extremely rosy, and he growled, "Let me go!"
"When have I ever lost? I can never lose!"
He was like an enraged beast, staring at Corleone: "In the name of the Martell family, now, shut your mouth and let us begin!"
"Please."
Corleone spread his palms and said no more.
The air in the room seemed to suddenly freeze, the candlelight lengthened the shadows of several people, and everyone held their breath.
No matter it is the Prince of Dorne or Master of Whisperers, the only people sitting across from each other now are two gamblers who have put their lives on the table!
Whoosh!
Oberyn reached out first and gently grasped the handle of the dagger with his long and strong fingers. Then, he opened the five fingers of his left hand and pressed it steadily on the table.
"Watch it, Corleone."
As he opened his mouth, the dagger made a piercing sound, sticking close to the skin and accurately piercing the table between the thumb and index finger.
Then between the index finger and middle finger, between the middle finger and ring finger, and between the ring finger and little finger.
"The charm of "Blade Dance" lies in its gradual nature."
Oberyn chuckled, not looking at his palms from beginning to end. Instead, he stared at Corleone, appearing calm and unhurried.
"A round is a complete cycle."
"From the outside to the inside of the palm, every position that may hurt the fingers needs to be taken care of. In one round, at least ten punctures will be made, all around the five fingers."
As he spoke, the speed of stabbing with the dagger quietly increased as he explained.
The gleaming sharp blade jumped between the fingers, thrusting in and out again and again. The movements were as smooth as if they had been practiced a thousand times, and every landing was precise.
"In Essos, I served in the Second Sons and played this game with no less than twenty people."
He continued to speak, speaking at a steady pace, which formed a strange synchronization with the sound of the dagger falling faster and faster, and increasingly revealed a sense of oppression.
"Do you know what it feels like when sharp steel slices through the skin on your finger bones and severes those delicate tendons?"
"It's like a part of your body has lost contact with you."
"Once it breaks, even the best maester can't restore it to its original state. Your finger will always hang down like a useless stick of meat."
He described it so carefully and calmly, as if he was telling the cooking process of a dish.
Obviously, this red viper from Dorne knows very well what kind of psychological tactics should be used to attack the opponent's psychological defense and awaken human beings' most primitive fear of pain and disability.
"Boom!"
The last knife penetrated the outer skin of the little finger into the table.
The force was so fierce that the handle of the knife buzzed.
The whole round of "Blade Dance" ended as quickly as if only a few heartbeats had passed.
Immediately afterwards, Oberyn raised his left hand, stretched out his fingers, stretched it out in front of Corleone's eyes, and shook it gently.
"As you can see, Vito·Corleone."
"This is the hand of Essos' finest Mercenary."
"After more than twenty games with Blade Dance, it is still intact."
After the words fell, Ellaria on the side suddenly breathed a sigh of relief, but all the pressure was transferred to Corleone.
An inadvertent smile appeared on Petyr's face, "It's your turn, Lord Corleone."
Hearing this, Corleone still showed no emotion on his face.
He just slowly adjusted his collar, then stretched out his left hand, with the same fingers spread out, pressing it steadily on the table, and finally picked up the dagger.
After weighing it, feeling its center of gravity, his fingertips brushed against the cold edge, but his movements were as gentle as touching his lover's cheek.
"Fair enough."
Corleone spoke without any trembling, as if Oberyn's threat just now was just the breeze blowing through the window.
Then, his actions began.
The first cut.
It was inserted between the thumb and index finger. The landing point and angle were exactly the same as when Oberyn started. It was as precise as measuring with a ruler, but not very fast.
Then the second knife, the third knife...
He strictly followed the order and path demonstrated by Oberyn.
What's even more shocking is that, like Oberyn, he never lowered his head to look at the palm of his hand that was risking under the blade!
Those dark eyes were as calm as water, looking at Oberyn indifferently, as if provoking.
Seeing this, the contempt on Oberyn's face faded slightly, and he began to become serious.
Such precise control does not look like a newbie at all.
"Although, this is my first time playing this game."
At this moment, Corleone kept moving, but spoke like Oberyn did before.
The sound and the rhythm of the dagger falling complement each other, forming a strange rhythm, which is completely imitating the other party's actions meticulously.
"But you have to know, I said, I am a the Doctor."
As he spoke, Corleone sped up, gradually catching up with Oberyn's pace in the second half of the first round.
However, his tone remained calm, as if he was speaking at an academic seminar, "To me, there is essentially no difference between a dagger and a scalpel."
"They are all tools, extensions of will, and means of solving problems."
The dagger fell again, close to the connection between the ring finger and the little finger, the blade almost grazing the skin.
But Corleone's language was clear and logical, which formed a strong contrast with the thrilling actions.
"When performing surgery, you can't expect to carry sophisticated surgical instruments with you at all times. You have to use whatever you have at hand."
"A dagger, a Longsword, or even a sharp piece of broken glass."
As his words became sharper, his movements became faster and faster, and the cold light of the dagger almost formed a sheet, covering his fingers.
"Your knowledge of the anatomy of the human body is admirable."
Corleone suddenly changed the subject. "That's good. It shows your erudition and your deep understanding of dangers."
Boom!
As he finished speaking, a knife stabbed into the outside of his little finger.
Round one, done!
Seeing this, Oberyn was about to reach out to take the dagger, but in his surprised eyes, Corleone did not stop.
But... started the second round without hesitation!
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
"But."
Corleone continued to speak, and the afterimages of the daggers almost merged into one piece, causing the sound of howling wind, indicating that the speed was extremely unusual.
But he even had the freedom to lean forward slightly, his eyes almost touching Oberyn's face.
"You overlooked something."
"You use it to intimidate your opponents and break their will, but you don't realize that when the blade is about to touch the skin, the human body will react instinctively without conscious control."
Watching the dagger in Corleone's hand falling like a butterfly through a flower, the speed became faster and faster. Even Oberyn's eyesight couldn't see it clearly, and his face began to become extremely condensed.
This speed... has simply exceeded his limit!
While he was talking, Corleone had already completed the second round, and even started the third and fourth rounds. The dagger in his hand did not pause at all, and the speed was getting faster and faster!
However, he kept staring at Oberyn's eyes, not even glancing at his own palm!
[External lift surgery lv3][Insight Iv3][Basic Swordsmanship Iv3], the effect they bring is by no means as simple as 1+1=2!
"When the pain signal caused by a sharp object is transmitted to the spinal cord and brain, it will instantly trigger a series of defense mechanisms"
"This vibration originating from the instinct of life is enough to cause the originally precise blade to deviate from the preset trajectory. Even if it is only half a millimeter, it is enough to cause catastrophic consequences."
"And I...
He continued, and in Oberyn's shocked eyes, Corleone's speed increased again!
Moreover, for the first time, his voice showed absolute confidence in his professional field!
"As a the Doctor, I deal with this instinctive reaction every day."
"My stability comes not only from the strength of my wrists and the dexterity of my fingers, but also from knowing when and how pain will strike, and knowing how my muscles will respond."
"So, I can minimize its impact before it happens!"
As soon as the words fell, Corleone stabbed out the last knife!
The speed was so fast that only a silver afterimage was left in the eyes of the three of them!
"Boom!!"
The dagger was driven deeply into the table, and the handle trembled violently, making a continuous buzzing sound, showing the strength and speed of the blow just now.
The whole room suddenly fell into absolute silence.
After all this was done, Corleone slowly raised his left hand, just like Oberyn had done before.
The five fingers are stretched out, each one is intact, the skin is smooth, and there is not even the smallest red mark.
"Look, Prince Oberyn."
"This is the hand of the Doctor, the best of the seven the Seven Kingdoms."
He paused, looked directly into Oberyn's dark eyes and grinned. "And it is intact."