The climate in the South was vastly different from the North. Even after traveling in the South for several years, the Dornish sun still felt malicious to a native Northerner.
That malice was wantonly flaunted, openly and righteously, filling the air around him, as if the very atmosphere itself had scorching tentacles tightly gripping Ned's heart.
Ned slowly narrowed his eyes, letting the fine beads of sweat crawl across his face and spread over his entire body. He stared intently at the three knights not far in front of him. Behind the three knights was the objective of his journey — the Tower of Joy, and his sister within it. But first, he needed to deal with the three knights in front of him, so the solemnity in his gray eyes grew increasingly intense, because his chances of winning were not high.
The three knights, clad in armor, sat steadily upon their warhorses, like a towering mountain blocking the path of Ned and his party of seven. The bright silver armor reflected a faint light, and the white cloaks behind them remained motionless, like a long-held silence.
"Lord Stark." The leading knight nodded slightly in greeting, his right hand on the reins, his left hand hidden beneath his cloak gripping his sword sheath. "I am here to guard the princess by Prince Rhaegar's command. Please turn back." His voice had a strange metallic quality; the sounds he made when his lips closed were not like words, but rather like sharp blades.
Ned knew this knight, or rather, had heard of him for a long time — the legendary Dawnbreaker, the King's Guard, Captain of the Kingsguard, the renowned undefeated knight, Arthur Dayne. Yet, he was now an enemy Ned had to face.
"Lyanna is not Rhaegar's princess. She is Robert's fiancée!" The worry for his sister, the guilt towards Robert, and the hatred for the royal family ignited a raging inferno in Ned, or Eddard Stark's, heart, burning away his fear of the Dawnbreaker.
"My Lord!" Hollan Reed placed a hand on Ned's shoulder, his worried tone and gruff voice sounding in Ned's ear. Ned understood that at this moment, in this place, he needed not hot-headedness, but rationality. The Dawnbreaker was not a brainless bandit who could be defeated by brute force; this was a powerful knight whom even he, along with the six others, could not hope to defeat by fighting with all their might. He needed a clear mind to face the upcoming battle.
"Lord Arthur, as a member of the Kingsguard, you must have witnessed the Mad King's atrocities firsthand. Why do you still stand in my way?" Ned took a deep breath, the scorching air rushing into his lungs, just like his current mood.
The Dawnbreaker fell silent for a moment. He was well aware of the king's cruelty, but as a Kingsguard, he had sworn an oath of lifelong loyalty to the king, to become the most solid shield and the sharpest sword in the king's hand. No matter whom the blade was pointed at, he should not show an ounce of hesitation or sympathy.
"Lord Stark, you should understand what a knight must do in this situation."
Ned tightened his grip on the reins, drew his blade, and with a determined gaze at Arthur and the two others, he let out a low cry. The party of seven, led by Ned, spurred their warhorses forward, charging.
Arthur and the two others moved in unison, skillfully leaning forward, drawing their swords, and charging their horses, all in one fluid motion.
The two sides were less than three zhang apart, and before the ten warhorses could reach their top speed, they clashed in close combat.
Ned swung his sword, flashing a bright light under the scorching sun, aiming straight for Arthur's throat, but it was easily parried. Arthur then drew another longsword and thrust it directly at Ned. Ned's pupils constricted, his gray eyes seemingly stained bright silver by the blade.
Seeing the danger, Hollan, who was beside him, didn't have time to block the sword in front of him. He put all his strength into his hands and stabbed his sword into the neck of Arthur's warhorse. The horse reared up and neighed, causing Arthur's fatal strike to miss, saving Ned's life.
Hollan, however, took a sword strike, cried out in pain, and fell from his horse. Luckily, he avoided being trampled by the warhorse and lay on the ground, unable to get up for a moment.
In an instant, the two sides passed each other.
Four of Ned's knights, however, lay dead by the sword. Their riderless warhorses, startled, galloped towards the Tower of Joy not far away. The four knights lay on the dry, hard earth, their crimson blood flowing out, mixing with the soil, creating a muddy mess.
"Martyn Cassel, Wyllem Dustin, Ethan Glover, Mark Ryswell, Hollan Reed." Ned didn't have time to grieve. He merely recited the names of the five fallen knights in his heart before turning his attention to Arthur and the others, who had passed by.
Even though Arthur and the two others were Kingsguard, skilled in both swordsmanship and horsemanship, Ned's party consisted of equally first-rate knights. With two fists unable to contend with four hands, Oswell Whent, one of the three, also became a casualty of the sword.
And Gerold Hightower, known as the White Bull, only sustained a sword wound to his left shoulder, his warhorse was unharmed, and he still had the strength to fight.
In contrast, the Dawnbreaker, Arthur, though uninjured due to Hollan's desperate efforts, lost his warhorse. He rolled on the ground, then rose to grab the reins of Oswell's warhorse.
Ned and the other man seized the opportunity, not allowing Arthur to remount, and charged forward in haste.
The White Bull, Gerold, spurred his horse towards Ned, while Lue charged directly at Arthur.
Ned leaned forward, his longsword not aimed at Gerold, but instead plunged into Gerold's warhorse. Gerold, with a similar intuition, made the same choice. However, with his left shoulder injured, his strength was insufficient, and his speed was three points slower than Ned's. The moment he fell from his horse, Ned's sword pierced his throat. Amidst the warhorse's sorrowful neighs, he died with a gurgling sound.
After dispatching his opponent, Ned dismounted from his slowly collapsing warhorse and turned to look at the other battle. A scene filled with anger and a chill in his mind met his eyes.
Arthur, seeing Lue charging on horseback, remained calm. He judged that a forced remount meant death, while turning to fight meant survival. Allowing Lue's longsword to strike, he ducked to the side, dodging the sword, then held his swords with both hands and arched his back.
A spurt of blood shot into the air, and the knight who had passed by was decapitated. Arthur, propping himself up with his sword, stared at Ned's face, which showed either fear or hatred, then grimly raised his sword and charged.
"Clang!" Ned swung his sword to meet the attack. The moment their weapons clashed, his entire body shuddered. Ned felt an unstoppable force assault him, his legs weakened, and he almost collapsed to the ground under the pressure. Gritting his teeth, he instinctively half-knelt, his back to the Tower of Joy, trembling as he held his longsword defensively over his shoulder. He stared intently into Arthur's placid brown eyes, which seemed to reflect his own flushed, gritting, yet powerless and awaiting-death face.
Suddenly, a whistling sound came, violent and urgent, accompanied by a rumbling like distant thunder, drawing closer and closer. Ned saw a flash of fire in Arthur's clear eyes, a fire that almost filled his pupils.
Those previously calm pupils were now filled with fire, as if two suns had appeared in the sky, and one of them was growing larger and larger. Arthur's cold composure could no longer be maintained.
In a flash, Ned didn't have time to think much. The force from Arthur on his parrying sword gradually weakened. He knew this was his only chance to turn defeat into victory, to snatch life from death. Just as he was about to forcefully press his sword back, he saw a sword tip emerge from Arthur's throat, spraying blood onto Ned's face and dyeing his vision red.
Arthur, struck by this fatal blow, felt all strength drain from his body. His longsword slipped from his grasp, and he fell to the ground, yet his eyes remained fixed on Ned's back. The fire in his unseeing, dissipating pupils grew more intense.
The relief of escaping death, which had just filled his heart, hadn't even reached his face when Hollan, who had turned the tide of the battle, screamed in terror, "My Lord!" Ned swore he couldn't imagine a gruff man like Hollan emitting such a high-pitched, piercing shriek, as if it would rupture his eardrums.
As thoughts flickered, poor Ned, before he could even process his complex emotions, was suddenly pressed down by Hollan, who had thrown himself on top of him. In a daze, Hollan's pupils, like the deceased Arthur's, were also filled with fire.
Those fire-filled pupils now pierced Ned's heart like sharp blades, making him suddenly feel uneasy and terrified. It was an intuitive sensation, one that was more intense than even the moment he faced Arthur, when he was extremely close to death. He wanted to know what had happened, so he struggled to look past Hollan's firm but trembling chest, towards the rear.
Then, he saw a scene he would never forget, a scene so impactful he couldn't even begin to comprehend what it meant to him.
He could only let out a mournful cry, as if it took all his strength, a wail like that of a stray dog who had lost everything.
"No!!!!!!"
"Boom~~"
In an instant, everything was engulfed in this earth-shattering roar, with nothing else remaining. The desperate wails of humans and the mournful cries of the surviving warhorses blended into it, leaving only the roar.
The several-zhang-tall human-made structure of earth and stone—the Tower of Joy—offered no resistance to this descending blaze, let alone the bedridden humans and newborn infants within. Everything in the Tower of Joy vanished inch by inch with the roaring sound.
Crushed earth and stone shot out like powerful crossbow bolts in the roaring blast.
"Ah~" Ned felt Hollan's constantly trembling body tense up amidst the roar, then gradually soften with 'thump, thump' sounds, and after an unknown period, become stiff.
All he could do was not disappoint Hollan, burying himself deep beneath this human shield, sobbing and wailing, yet bravely and strongly living on through the pain.
If all of this is punishment, old gods! Please tell me why you still let me live?!
After everything calmed down, Ned knelt in a daze amidst the ruins. Lucky or unlucky, he had only been hit on his right leg by a piece of rubble, and had a shallow sword wound on his left shoulder left by Arthur.
And before him, the sole reason he was alive, Hollan. This man who had saved him twice in a short time, no, how many times? Ned looked at the shattered Hollan before him, making it impossible to imagine what terrible things he had endured.
I, Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, Supreme Ruler of the North, warden of the north!
What meaning does that hold in this disaster?
The objective of this journey — Lyanna in the Tower of Joy.
Hollan's tragic state entered Ned's vision. Lyanna must have also been completely destroyed along with the Tower of Joy.
If I hadn't arrived today, even if Lyanna died, Hollan and the others wouldn't have died so meaninglessly, would they? Ned thought.
He didn't know how long he had knelt, more like a statue than a living person. It wasn't until the sunlight faded and the dust settled that he seemed to revive like a deceased person of many years. He wandered lifelessly through the ruins.
He had to collect the remains, for both friend and foe, should have a resting place after death.
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