The king shouted, "Hound, you've had too much to drink, get down!"
Barristan and the other Kingsguard were standing not far from the King and Queen. When the King spoke, they all came over, and the Hound, whose face was flushed and who reeked of alcohol, was forcibly persuaded to leave.
"Brother, you wait, I'll kill you tomorrow!" The hound's cursing voice kept coming.
The Mountain heard the Hound, drunk, call him "brother" instead of "Mountain" or "Gregor." This detail reveals that the Hound has recently come to terms with many things, though he himself is not aware of it yet. But he will eventually realize it; his subconscious has already called him "brother," something that has never happened before. The drunken Hound's mind is unguarded, and he has called out his blood ties.
The Hound must have understood the profound meaning behind his threat to Maester Lucius: to protect him from the Maester's treachery. The Hound was shrewd in this regard and surely understood. His reason told him he couldn't accept the Mountain, but deep down, his heart was already beginning to change, though he wasn't aware of it...
The hounds were persuaded to leave, and the Mountain, with a hearty appetite, waved for the servants to remove the pile of empty plates in front of him and have all the meat served again.
Everyone else had finished eating, and they all stopped eating, taking the towels and basins from the maids to wash their hands and faces. The king, however, continued drinking, a wine cup in each hand.
"Edward, who do you think will win the jousting tomorrow?" the king asked.
"Sir Gregor, no one can stop him!" Ed said truthfully.
"I can hold off the Demon Mountain tomorrow," the Knight of Flowers said with an elegant smile. "Prime Minister, I'm here to win the championship! The championship is mine."
Kingslayer shrugged. "Alright, Sir Loras, you face the Mountain tomorrow, and I'll face the Hound." Kingslayer glanced at the Mountain, who was still feasting. "If it's about eating, we've already lost to the Mountain combined. He's a real giant barrel."
The king killer's words made everyone burst into laughter.
The Mountain looked up at Loki, the Knight of Flowers. The boy was indeed very handsome, captivating all the noblewomen and ladies of King's Landing, and becoming the dream lover of commoner beauties.
"I promise I won't kill you tomorrow, Sir Loras," the Mountain mumbled, his mouth full of meat.
In Tywin Lannister's grand plan, the Reach is an ally of the Westerlands. Killing this flower-like boy would be more harmful than beneficial. If this kid could travel to the world of The Mountain, he would be the most handsome man in the contest from the very beginning, breaking the hearts of countless girls.
"Mountain, stop eating. Go to the Sanctuary and pray. Dawn is coming soon, and you don't have much time left to pray to the Seven. This championship is destined to be mine, to the Reach, and to House Tyrell."
"Don't provoke me, kid. I'm still eating. If I do, I'll smash your brains out and ruin my appetite." The Mountain glared, his anger flaring.
The Queen said, "Sir Loras, you should go back to your hotel. If you don't get a good rest tonight, you won't have the energy to compete tomorrow."
"Yes, Your Majesty." Loras stood up very politely, nodded to the King, Queen, Prime Minister, Prince, and Sansa one by one, and left with a smile.
"I will participate in the tournament tomorrow," the king announced loudly as he stood up. He had won many championships in the tournaments he had participated in before. Robert the Warhammer was indeed the King of War. "My warhammers have not fought in a long time. They must be eager for this day."
"You absolutely cannot participate in the group tournament. You are the king; group tournaments are too dangerous," Queen Cersei declared resolutely. "I will not allow it!"
In group combat, where dozens of people clash, deaths are commonplace. Swords and blades are merciless; it's no joke!
The king's warhammer was indeed invincible; even Eddard could barely lift it. But that was in the past; the king himself could no longer lift it. His belly was too fat, and he could no longer wear his old armor.
"You wretched woman, don't even think about telling me what to do!" The king roared at the queen, swirling the golden wine in his cups. "I am the king here, don't you understand? I'm the one in charge here, and if I say we're going to fight tomorrow, we're going to fight!"
Everyone was dumbfounded, except for the person on the mountain who continued to enjoy the food.
Ser Barristan, the Kingsguard, the Hand of the King Eddard, Renly, the King's brother at the next table, Littlefinger, and others were taken aback. The King suddenly flew into a rage and reprimanded the Queen in public, but no one intervened.
The queen's face was deathly pale, like a mask sculpted from snow. She rose from the table, pulled at her skirt, turned and walked away without a word, the servants hurrying after her.
The king laughed triumphantly, pounding his chest with two golden cups, spilling wine all over his satin coat. "With my warhammer in hand, no one can stop me! Damn it, I'll be the champion in tomorrow's team competition!"
*
After the banquet, inside Prime Minister Ed's tent.
"Lord Ed, don't let the King participate in the team competition tomorrow. The spear championship and the team championship are both mine," the Mountain said.
Ed stared at the Mountain: "The king is participating, will you attack the king?"
The Mountain smiled slightly: "Your Excellency, aren't you worried that the Lannisters have a conspiracy? If it's really what you're worried about, tomorrow's tournament will be very dangerous. Perhaps many people are waiting for the King to personally take part in it."
Ed was taken aback!
The Mountain gave Prime Minister Ed a meaningful look, then turned and walked away.
Outside, there was a group of his brothers.
Without his permission, the brothers who had already traveled from the Golden Road in the Westerlands to King's Landing included Bighead Chiswick Clegane, Cavalry Captain Sweetmouth Raffar Clegane, and Lieutenant Dunson Clegane. They arrived with a band of fierce men, and during the day they mingled among thousands of people watching the jousting, each harboring their own thoughts. They had also passed the registration process during the day and were granted permission to participate in tomorrow's group tournament.
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Demon Mountain returned to the tent with a group of fierce warriors.
"Tomorrow morning is the spear duel to determine the champion, with a prize of 40,000 gold dragons. I'm determined to win. In the afternoon is the team competition, with about a dozen participants. The last one standing in the middle of the field will be the winner, with a prize of 20,000 gold dragons. We need to plan our tactics for tomorrow's team competition."
"My lord, we have brought you something," Sweet-talking Raff said with a smile.
"What is that?"
Big-Headed Chiswick and his brothers dragged out a large sack containing something heavy.
The bag was opened, revealing a black handle.
The Mountain reached out and grasped the hilt. It felt warm and smooth to the touch, as if it carried a warmth, giving it a lifelike quality. With a gentle lift, the hilt revealed itself to be about 1.5 meters long, the longest two-handed greatsword ever made. At the end of the hilt was a menacing, round iron hammer covered in spikes.
Mo Shan picked it up and waved it gently, feeling that it was slightly light: "How many pounds?"
Big-Headed Chiswick laughed, "Lord Gregor, this is a warhammer meticulously crafted for you by Master Tob Mort. It weighs 120 pounds and is a formidable weapon in group battles. In a melee of dozens of people, the warhammer can sweep across, shatter shields, and send men and horses sprawling."
"The long, sharp spikes are specifically designed to break through iron shields and armor. That's evil! But they're not very effective in practice. The master said the main purpose is to frighten people at first sight, and many will run away, saving us trouble," Deng Sen laughed.
"How many people do you want me to kill in this group battle?" the Mountain asked. The old Mountain would have been overjoyed, but the current Mountain didn't want to make enemies for no reason, because that was suicide. With each enemy he gained, he drew closer to death. What is truly invincible is not bravery, but hatred.
"Sir, we have this too!" Sweet-talking Raff said with a smile.
With a wave of his hand, several brothers came forward, each carrying a round shield. Touching them, they were all made of iron, with edges as sharp as knives, yet they were lighter than wooden shields.
"Forged from fine steel, it's impenetrable even by swords!" Deng Sen said, a smug look on his face.