When the royal herald announced the start of the semi-final, the atmosphere in the tourney grounds turned eerie.
Jaime Lannister.
The name itself represented the pinnacle of knightly skill in Westeros.
His opponent was just a nameless Black Knight who had barely crawled this far on dirty tricks and dumb luck.
This wasn't a duel.
The ending was already written.
Jaime Lannister mounted his horse with ease.
His golden armor reflected blinding light under the afternoon sun, looking like a god descended to earth.
He didn't even put on his helm, casually tying his brilliant golden hair behind his head.
A bored smile hung on his handsome face.
He looked at the figure wrapped in black iron at the other end of the track like he was looking at dead prey.
On the high dais, Littlefinger's expression had returned to normal.
Holding his wine cup, he looked at the ridiculously high odds on his betting board with leisurely satisfaction.
Now that Loras's biggest rival, the Mountain, had been cleared from the field, some people were betting on Jaime, but the outcome was predetermined.
Jaime was slightly inferior to Loras in the joust; Loras had a high probability of winning the final victory.
As for Lynn, the odds were absurdly high.
Littlefinger didn't take Lynn seriously at all. His previous performances were wretched. Littlefinger didn't believe Lynn could maintain his good luck in front of Jaime.
The game was time to end.
He didn't even bother to look at Lynn. Instead, he cast his gaze toward the Stark box.
He wanted to enjoy the spectacular expression on Ned Stark's face when his family's hero was skewered by the Golden Lion.
Lynn sat quietly on "Storm."
He could hear the whispers from the stands.
"Poor crow, he's going to lose."
"Ser Jaime will stick him through, horse and all!"
Lynn felt no ripples in his heart.
He simply raised his lance slowly.
In that moment, everyone noticed his posture had changed!
Gone was the clumsy stiffness of the first two matches.
His arm, wrist, back, and the horse beneath him formed a perfect line.
The black plate armor that had seemed heavy on him now looked as if it were part of his body, molded to his upright frame.
Man and horse exuded a sense of cold, fluid power.
In the Tyrell box, the smile on Loras Tyrell's face froze abruptly.
That posture...
That angle of holding the lance...
He stood up sharply, staring at Lynn in the field, his eyes full of disbelief.
That is my unique technique!
It's the method of force application I discovered through bitter training in Highgarden, the one that suits me best!
How does this crow from the Wall know it?!
How is this possible?
"Begin!"
Robert's roar fell.
The horn pierced the sky.
Jaime Lannister didn't even spur his horse immediately; he was still enjoying the feeling of being the center of attention.
However, the black figure opposite him launched instantly!
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The thick hooves of the Shire mare "Storm" struck the ground heavily with each step, sounding like war drums!
That wasn't a charge.
That was a small earthquake!
Jaime's face finally changed.
He felt the unreasonable oppression rushing toward him!
He immediately clamped his legs, urging his white stallion forward to meet it.
Gold and Black.
Two streams of light rapidly closing under everyone's gaze!
A fierce glint flashed in Jaime's eyes. His lance was steady as a mountain, aiming precisely for Lynn's chest.
He wanted to end this farce with one thrust!
However, just as the horses were about to cross!
Lynn secretly activated his Ice Magic.
Jaime felt a sudden chill, his body seemingly stiffening.
What is happening?
And at this critical moment, Lynn's body dipped slightly with a movement almost imperceptible to the naked eye.
CLANG—!!!
A loud bang exploded in everyone's ears!
Jaime's lance struck Lynn's shield.
However, the expected scene of crushing destruction did not occur.
Jaime felt as if his lance tip had hit an immovable wall!
A force of unimaginable violence surged back up the shaft madly!
CRACK!
His proud knightly shield shattered instantly before that brute force!
SQUELCH!
A tearing pain shot through Jaime's right arm gripping the lance. The web of his thumb split instantly, blood soaking through the seams of his gauntlet!
His hand trembled uncontrollably...
The warhorse beneath him let out a scream.
It was knocked backward repeatedly by the terrifying impact, nearly collapsing on the spot!
Lynn was unharmed.
With 9 points of Strength—barring special races or freaks of nature—he was at the peak of ordinary human capability.
Combined with unpredictable Ice Magic.
Even against the Mountain, Lynn was confident he could toy him to death!
Round one ended.
Lynn sat on his horse as steady as a mountain, without even a tremor.
Jaime Lannister, however, was in a sorry state.
He had underestimated his enemy.
Lynn's previous performance had deceived him completely.
Caught off guard, he had suffered a huge loss.
His condition now was terrible.
The entire tourney ground fell into a deathly silence.
Everyone stared dumbfounded, their minds blank.
What did they just see?
The Golden Lion!
One of the strongest knights in the Seven Kingdoms!
Crushed head-on in the first charge by a crow from the Wall?
On the high dais.
The wine cup in Littlefinger's hand stopped in mid-air. The smile on his face froze completely, his eyes filled with absurdity and shock.
"Well done! Ser Lynn!"
Prince Joffrey jumped up in excitement.
He screamed frantically, his face flushed red.
He felt no pity for his "uncle's" failure.
King Robert stood up directly from his chair.
An unprecedented light burst from his cloudy eyes as he cursed continuously.
"Well done!"
"Fuck the Lannisters!"
The Lannisters present looked grim.
The King's words embarrassed them.
But since the assassination attempt was linked to Cersei, they could only swallow this resentment, though their dissatisfaction with Robert grew.
Ned Stark gripped the armrests of his chair tightly.
His heart pounded as he watched the black figure in the field.
He finally understood.
Hiding his clumsiness.
From the beginning, Lynn was hiding his true skill!
He fooled everyone!
Even I was deceived at first!
"No... impossible..."
"How could he?"
Loras Tyrell slumped back into his chair, dazed.
Beside him, Margaery's beautiful eyes flashed with a strange light.
No girl could help but feel admiration for a powerful knight.
She was no exception.
But she quickly regained her composure.
Admiration was one thing, but she was a woman aiming for the highest position.
Bringing benefits to her family was her true goal.
"Again!"
From the other end of the track came Jaime Lannister's roar, suppressing his rage.
He threw away the shattered shield, put on his helm, and took a new lance, daring not to show any more contempt!
His handsome face twisted slightly from humiliation and pain, his eyes full of fighting spirit as he looked at Lynn!
Second charge!
This time, despite his injury, Jaime gave it everything he had!
The golden figure was like a lightning bolt tearing through the sky!
Lynn rode to meet him.
Still with that unreasonable posture!
At this moment, he pushed his 9 points of Strength to the limit!
CLANG—!!!
Another massive bang!
Wood chips flew!
This time, Lynn's lance struck first!
Before Jaime's lance could touch him, it smashed precisely into Jaime's chest!
No technique.
No fancy moves.
Only crushing power!
Jaime Lannister felt as if he had been hit head-on by a stampeding mammoth!
His golden plate armor groaned under the strain, the breastplate visibly caving in!
His proud body could no longer maintain balance on the horse.
He was torn from the saddle instantly, like a stone flung from a catapult!
THUD—!
The golden figure traced a pathetic arc in the air, then smashed heavily into the mud filled with horse dung and blood.
Silence.
Dead silence.
Everyone's breath stopped in that moment.
They watched the golden figure struggling to rise in the mud, only to collapse weakly.
Then they looked at the knight still sitting steadily on the black Shire horse, like a black demon god.
Uproar!
After the brief silence came a tidal wave of noise!
"Black Knight! Black Knight!"
"He won! He actually beat Jaime!"
Cheers and screams converged into a massive wave of sound!
Only this time, there was no more mockery.
On the high dais, Petyr Baelish slumped back into his chair with a plop.
His face, usually wearing a playful smile, instantly lost all color, becoming paler than a dead man.
He was mad.
No, he was about to go mad!
He was about to lose.
As long as Lynn won the final.
He would lose utterly and completely, losing everything he owned!
The rules were set by him, the Master of Coin.
And all the gamblers of King's Landing had witnessed this shocking reversal with their own eyes.
He was the one who tried to use clever tricks to amass wealth, and he would be the one trying to renege on the debt.
If he dared to do so, his reputation as Master of Coin would be completely ruined.
Petyr felt a bitterness he couldn't express.
Lynn slowly removed his helm, ignoring the deafening cheers around him, not even looking at the wretched "Kingslayer" on the ground.
His gaze passed over the noisy crowd, landing precisely on the figure on the high dais who looked ashen and lost in despair.
Littlefinger, you're almost finished.
"Next match, Ser Loras Tyrell, the Knight of Flowers!"
"Against—"
"The Nameless Black Knight of the Wall!"
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