"Rise, Knight of the Seven Kingdoms, Ser Lynn!"
Robert's roar exploded in everyone's ears.
Lynn stood up.
In the sunlight, his jet-black armor was a badge of honor.
The cloak embroidered with a Direwolf flapped in the wind, as if proclaiming the birth of a new legend.
The entire tourney grounds erupted.
The common folk frantically shouted the name "Black Knight," as if to engrave it into every brick and stone of King's Landing.
"Hahahahaha!"
Robert watched it all with satisfaction, gripping Lynn's shoulder with such force it almost deformed the steel armor.
"Tonight! A feast at the Red Keep!"
"To celebrate our new hero!"
...The opulence of the celebration feast exceeded everyone's imagination.
The long banquet tables were laden with roasted suckling pigs, honey-glazed hams, lamprey pies, and sweet corn drizzled with butter.
Aged fine wines from the Arbor were poured freely, like rivers of endless bounty.
Lynn was seated at the head table, right beside King Robert and Ned Stark.
After all, he was the protagonist of the day.
This position was even more prominent than many renowned great lords.
Almost everyone, holding their wine cups, lined up to toast him.
There were knights with genuine admiration, nobles seeking to forge connections, and even those from the royal family forcing smiles to get closer.
Lynn accepted all comers, but he only took a symbolic sip.
His gaze calmly swept across the entire banquet hall.
He saw Loras and Garlan, the Tyrell brothers, whispering to each other at their table, their eyes occasionally darting towards him, filled with scrutiny and apprehension.
Margaery Tyrell elegantly held her wine cup, her beautiful eyes shimmering with a light others found hard to decipher.
He also saw Jaime Lannister in a corner, sullenly drinking alone.
He had changed into casual clothes.
But his still throbbing arm and the bandages on his chest silently narrated the humiliation he suffered today.
And Petyr Baelish, who should have been one of the main guests, was nowhere to be seen.
Just then, several Gold Cloaks led a group of plainly dressed merchants into the banquet hall.
At the forefront was the fat merchant Lynn had saved.
Although his leg had healed, he still walked with a limp, clearly having a lingering ailment.
Currently, his face was filled with excitement and reverence.
As soon as they saw Lynn, they all knelt down in unison with a thud.
"My Lord!"
The fat merchant was so emotional that tears and snot streamed down his face.
"I never thought I'd see you again in King's Landing!"
This sudden scene instantly quieted the noisy banquet hall.
King Robert watched them with interest, while Ned gestured for the Guards to help them up.
"My Lord, you may have forgotten us."
The fat merchant struggled, refusing to stand.
"But we will never forget your kindness!"
"In the Wolfswood of the North, we were robbed by a group of vicious brigands."
"It was you, Ser Lynn, who killed all the brigands and saved all of us!"
The fat merchant's voice clearly echoed throughout the banquet hall.
"He didn't ask us for a single copper of reward, and he even compensated our losses with the brigands' loot!"
"My Lord said that in the North, under the banner of House Stark, clearing out banditry is his duty!"
At these words, everyone was astonished.
If winning the tourney made Lynn an idol everyone admired, then the fat merchant's words at this moment completely elevated him to a divine status!
The lords present exchanged glances, their eyes filled with disbelief.
In King's Landing, where money reigned supreme, could there truly be such a noble knight who sought no reward?
The atmosphere in the banquet hall gradually shifted from fervent adoration to a profound, heartfelt reverence.
Ned Stark looked at Lynn, his grey eyes filled with complex emotions.
He knew that Lynn was not just doing it for himself.
He was also doing it for the entire North.
Winning prestige for House Stark.
"Good! A fine duty indeed!"
Robert slammed his hand on the table, shouting his approval.
"This is how all Knights of the Seven Kingdoms should be!"
He turned to Ned beside him, his eyes full of praise.
"Ned, you have brought a true hero to the Seven Kingdoms!"
...The feast continued late into the night.
The next day, the entire King's Landing was abuzz with the legend of the Black Knight.
Not only his valor on the tourney grounds, but also his righteous deeds in the Wolfswood of the North, taking not a single coin.
Lynn's reputation reached an unprecedented peak in just one day.
Meanwhile, another piece of news quietly circulated in the dark corners of King's Landing.
The Master of Coin, Petyr Baelish, was ruined.
The odds he had set at the tourney, due to Lynn's astonishing comeback, had completely bankrupted him.
He had tried to be clever, predicting a final between Loras and the Mountain, and then easily reaping wealth by relying on that mare.
He never expected Lynn to appear out of nowhere.
Lynn had consistently feigned weakness to maintain high odds, waiting until the final betting was about to close and could no longer be changed before revealing his fangs!
He had been utterly trapped!
A colossal gambling debt of nearly 200,000 Gold Dragons completely crushed Lord Baelish, who had once held sway in King's Landing.
His reserves were insufficient; he couldn't pay the full prize money... The morning sun streamed through the windows into the Master of Coin's hall, which had once symbolized power.
Only now, it lacked its former glory.
Petyr Baelish sat disconsolately in a chair.
He wore yesterday's wine-soaked rich robes, his face unshaven, his eyes bloodshot, as if he had aged ten years overnight.
On the table before him lay scattered piles of deeds and ledgers.
His brothels, his shipping business at the docks, his several landholdings outside the city... everything he had painstakingly built over a decade would change hands.
The door was pushed open.
Lynn walked in, followed by two Northern Guards sent by Ned.
He wasn't wearing his heavy armor, just a simple black outfit, with the black Direwolf cloak casually draped over his shoulder.
He calmly looked at the man before him, who resembled a stray dog, with no trace of pity in his eyes.
"Lord Baelish, I'm here to collect."
Littlefinger's body trembled violently.
He struggled to lift his head, his eyes, once sparkling with shrewd calculation, now held only endless fear.
"You... who exactly are you?"
Lynn did not answer.
He simply walked to the table, picked up a ledger, and casually flipped through it.
"I don't have that many Gold Dragons."
Littlefinger stared at Lynn, as if using his last ounce of strength.
"These are all my properties, take them."
"I only have one question."
"How did you know?"
"How did you know there was something wrong with Loras's horse? How could you possibly defeat Jaime? You..."
He stared intently into Lynn's eyes.
These questions had tormented him all night.
He couldn't understand where things had gone wrong.
Lynn's hidden strength had made everyone lose confidence in him, only for him to surprise everyone in the final.
This was simply too outrageous.
Every move Lynn made was as if he had read a script beforehand, precisely stepping on every one of his calculations.
This was illogical.
This was simply not something a human could do!
He even suspected that Lynn was not human at all, but a demon from the seven hells wearing human skin!
"You don't need to know."
Lynn closed the ledger and tossed it onto the table.
"I only need you to remember one thing."
Lynn leaned down, close to Littlefinger's ear, and whispered in a voice only the two of them could hear.
"I know about the dirty deeds you've done."
"Brandon, Joffrey, Lord Arryn, and your co-conspirator Lady Lysa..."
"This will be my first, and last, warning to you."
"Stay away from House Stark."
"Otherwise, next time, what I take will be more than just your money."
"Believe me, Lord Baelish, I have ten thousand ways to make you regret it."
"Chaos is a ladder, isn't it, Lord Baelish?"
The voice was soft, yet it was like a chilling wind from the Land of Always Winter in the North, seeping into Littlefinger's bones.
He looked into Lynn's unfathomably deep black eyes and felt as if his very soul had been laid bare.
He was completely terrified.
Before him, all his proud schemes and machinations seemed as ridiculous as a child's game.
Having made his threat, Lynn's tone softened a bit.
"Don't worry, Lord Baelish."
"As long as you don't harm House Stark again, I won't meddle in whatever you do, nor do I wish to."
"And I won't tell anyone about the things you've done."
Lynn no longer paid attention to Petyr, simply turned and left with the Guards, taking the deeds and ledgers with him.
Now, only Petyr Baelish remained.
After a long while, the once arrogant Lord Baelish let out a low growl, like a wounded beast.
He furiously swept everything on the table to the floor.
He had lost, utterly and completely.
He dared not harbor any more thoughts against House Stark, nor against that man who was like a devil.
However, he would not admit defeat just yet.
Petyr Baelish shakily stood up and walked to the window, looking out at the bustling King's Landing.
A sickly and crazed smile slowly spread across his face.
"Chaos is a ladder..."
He murmured to himself.
Since the Stark path was blocked,
Then let the King and the Lion fight to the death!
He would make all of Westeros pay for his failure today!
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