Game of Thrones: I Created the Magic Web

Amidst the heavy breathing of rain and snowballs, Sandor Clegane opened his eyes in the darkness.

The moment of truth had arrived.

"Begin the operation," Clegane heard Prince Joffrey say.

Silently, Clegane climbed out of his bedroll, donned his armor, strapped on his sword, and, reeking of alcohol, pushed open the creaking wooden door of the inn room.

The narrow corridor, where one couldn't see their own hand, was filled with the decaying stench of drunkenness and vomit, punctuated by the sudden, meaningless roars and shouts from the rooms, all from hopeless drunks.

Thump... Clack... Creak...

Clegane had tried his best to tread lightly, but the staircase leading to the tavern on the first floor was more fragile than the back of a dying old man, and with each step, one couldn't help but worry how much longer it could hold.

Fortunately, he finally made it safely.

"Hey!" He shoved the young lad sprawled out asleep behind the bar like a dead pig.

"I'm going out on business, so hurry up and get that damned door open! Is this how you're guarding the door?!"

The lad mustered all his strength to barely open his eyelids.

This small tavern wasn't prosperous enough to be open all night; like most of King's Landing, it was resting in the darkness.

Click. The iron lock on the door was successfully unlocked.

"Safe travels, sir, just try not to get caught by the Gold Cloaks on patrol."

Disturbed from his beautiful dream, the lad didn't dare curse the ferocious giant directly, and could only vent his grievances in a roundabout way.

According to the King's law, pedestrians were not allowed in King's Landing at night. Although the number of Gold Cloaks on night patrol was small and they often slacked off, if these greedy wild dogs caught you, losing a layer of skin would be the least of your worries.

Clegane didn't bother arguing with this little thing, and strode into the cool air. Still smelled like living people, damn it.

He identified the direction and headed straight towards the Dragon Gate, near which there was a Gold Cloak barracks.

Today's task was heavy, but he knew that he had become much, much stronger. While these Gold Cloaks were good at bullying people, real sword-to-sword combat? The Mountain alone could make them all cry for their mothers.

Why did he think of that guy again? Clegane shook his head irritably, but still couldn't control his active thoughts.

Now, he probably isn't my match, is he?

Clegane turned into an alley.

A small figure in the shadows followed him from dozens of steps away, but didn't notice the tall target.

Shing~

The short, dark figure subconsciously blinked, belatedly clutching his spurting throat, unable to move, only watching the target in front of him become smaller and smaller, darker and darker...

Clegane figured this might be a "Little Bird"; Varys was good at finding fearless orphans, damn it all.

A few months ago, Clegane wouldn't have been able to guarantee that he could find the rat behind him, but now it was different. He had the power of fire and light, the wonders of magic, and a mental strength that surpassed his physical body.

He even felt that he could kill all seven hundred Gold Cloaks stationed at the Dragon Gate.

It just depended on whether these scraps were smart enough.

Ahead, a thin man and seven mercenaries with gleaming blades blocked the way. Clegane stopped.

Again?

Clegane didn't waste much more time than before.

He continued forward, stepping on the steaming, semi-dried bloodstains and charred limbs. Damn, there was a bit of a meaty smell, even more of a disgusting stench, just like that time when he was a child.

He decided it was better to use fire less.

After dealing with a few more waves of rats, when the sky overhead had already turned a faint blue, Clegane finally arrived at the gate of the Gold Cloak barracks.

The still-burning bonfire allowed him to see the world within dozens of meters with the naked eye.

But Clegane had better "eyes."

As before, the gate was tightly closed, the solid, tall stone wall had no loopholes, and the walls, wide enough for two horses to go abreast, also had guard posts, a dozen ballistae, and countless firing holes.

An inconspicuous man quietly appeared beside Clegane.

Merely a few breaths later.

Seven Gold Cloaks in the guard post came out, walking down the wall along the steps without a word, getting closer and closer to the gate.

The plan seemed to be going very smoothly.

But through the stone wall, Clegane saw the three Gold Cloaks walking behind pull out their daggers.

"Damn it all!"

Clegane cursed, simply drew two short knives and nailed them into the stone wall, pulling himself up the wall one knife at a time.

As soon as he climbed up, he jumped forward without thinking, landing right on a fresh pool of blood.

The three traitors had already finished off their companions.

Clegane drew his longsword.

The three trembled at the same time, "Enemy attack! Someone..."

His head had already flown off.

"Brothers, wake up, save..."

"Mercy..."

The gate quieted down, but the entire barracks gradually filled with more sounds.

Clegane forcefully pulled open the gate.

The man rushed in immediately, "Don't be impulsive, guard the gate and don't let anyone slip away, I'll help you distinguish between enemies and our own."

Clegane grinned, "All nonsense! You think I don't know?"

The barracks had become completely noisy.

This was the smaller of the two Gold Cloak barracks, with about seven hundred men.

The barracks commander was only responsible for logistics, the seven centurions were independent of each other, and under them were eighty-one squad leaders and more than six hundred soldiers, a mixed bag where countless shady dealings took place.

The atmosphere in the barracks had been subtle and strange these days, and the smart guys had long dared not fall into a deep sleep, fearing death in their dreams.

Now it had come true.

The officers and soldiers who accepted orders from the Royal Family and the Lannisters took the lead, but those who were coerced and tempted by Varys and Littlefinger's forces were also prepared.

The two sides broke out almost simultaneously, and those who were unaware suffered the heaviest casualties.

The sounds of clashing swords and painful howls rose and fell, bonfires toppled and spread, figures ran back and forth, almost making one think it was a battlefield where two armies were fighting.

Clegane heard the man beside him filled with worry and panic.

"It shouldn't be like this, we have far more people than the rebels, five of the seven centurions are our own, and one isn't an enemy either, how could it be like this?"

Clegane snorted.

"What else could it be? You've been played! In my opinion, show these greedy bastards the glint of swords, and they'll listen!"

Clegane wasn't alarmed.

The barracks had no other passages, as long as they guarded the gate, killed a few more to establish authority, what was there to fear from the Gold Cloaks showing their teeth?

He didn't know how long had passed, but finally, in the vast barracks, there was only the crackling of burning wood.

Military officers, whose black breastplates were decorated with four golden discs, walked over, followed by hundreds of black-armored, gold-robed soldiers wielding spears.

"Clegane, quickly clear the way, there's trouble in the Red Keep, we must go to support immediately!"

The leading officer had a look of impassioned righteousness, as if he were the side of justice. Speaking of which, in a coup, where is there any justice?

Clegane sighed, he had to use fire after all.

"Long live the King!" Clegane raised his longsword high, the rich light magic blinded everyone's eyes, "Fight for the King!"

He charged towards the army in front, covering their eyes, weeping and wailing.

Flames burned fiercely.

Like a lava hell.

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