The Mountain of Ice and Fire

The Mountain swung his sword downwards, but the spear had already retracted, drawing an arc straight for his face.

Oberyn only needed a flick of the wrist; the spearhead moved as he willed, and the towering Mountain was one giant target.

The Mountain took a step back, his strides enormous. A simple retreat covered a great distance, avoiding the spear. The distance between them exceeded the length of a one-handed sword.

Oberyn had forced the Mountain to retreat with just two thrusts.

This was exactly what he wanted!

As long as he kept the Mountain at bay, he was invincible. The Mountain, from head to toe, was a target.

Oberyn glided forward, the spear aimed at the Mountain's front knee.

Having shed his plate armor, every inch of the Mountain's body was vulnerable.

The Mountain was tall, a giant, and the knee was an easily targeted joint. His ice-cold sword slashed at the spear shaft, but he missed again. Oberyn's spear didn't meet the giant sword head-on; a slight lift of the wrist, and it aimed for the Mountain's right wrist.

The spear's shadow stretched, swift beyond compare!

The spear's flexibility in thrusting far surpassed that of a longsword, and the distance prevented the Mountain from launching a counter-attack.

The Mountain's left hand shot out to grab the spear shaft. If he could seize it, Oberyn was done for. The Mountain's strength in one hand was more than Oberyn could match with two.

Oberyn flicked his wrist, the spearhead drawing a small circle. The Mountain's left hand grasped at empty air, and with a clang, the spear tip struck his left wrist, sparks flying, but failing to penetrate.

The Mountain wore an iron gauntlet, and his entire body was covered in close-fitting mail. Beneath the mail was specially treated, boiled leather.

Despite this, the force still penetrated, and the Mountain's wrist throbbed faintly.

The Dornishmen erupted in earth-shattering cheers!

Cersei, Mace, Arryn, Koam Werner, Landon Gower, and others all paled.

Jaime saw that the Mountain's speed was slightly slower, and that small difference was proving fatal.

The spear held the advantage of length. Oberyn merely rotated his wrist, up or down, without moving his body or feet, and the spear transformed endlessly.

No movement was faster than simply flicking the wrist to drastically alter the attack route.

Oberyn's spearmanship was exquisite; he had devised his technique to counter the Mountain before even arriving in Dorne.

Foresight is key!

Amidst the cheers of the Dornishmen, Oberyn kept his eyes locked on the Mountain, but he was disappointed. The Mountain wasn't flying into a rage.

This was not a good sign!

Many feared the Mountain's rage; once enraged, his speed, strength, and brutality doubled, unstoppable.

But Oberyn wanted to provoke the Mountain's rage.

In a rage, the Mountain's openings would be plentiful. The spear, like a viper, nimble and free, could strike the Mountain's vitals, and even his immense strength would be brought down.

However, the Mountain didn't fly into a rage, instead taking another half-step back.

That half-step was a giant leap for Oberyn.

The Mountain was further from the viper-like spear tip. If Oberyn didn't pursue, he couldn't stab the Mountain, but the Mountain's longsword was already shorter than the spear, making it even less likely he could strike Oberyn.

The warriors of Claw Isle fell silent. They had been joking and spewing vulgarities, but now they were all quiet.

Cersei's face was tense as well, and Prince Tommen could feel his mother's grip on his hand tighten.

The soldiers and citizens supporting the Mountain were all silent.

The Mountain was already on the defensive, so soon after the fight began.

They realized they had underestimated the Red Viper's skill. The Red Viper's spear was custom-made, three and a third feet longer than the Mountain's greatsword. Without immense training, the Red Viper couldn't wield such a long spear with such mastery.

Jaime stood beside Cersei and said softly, "It seems the Red Viper's preparation for this duel wasn't just three days."

Cersei looked at Jaime suspiciously!

"He may have been planning to kill the Mountain in a duel to avenge Princess Elia from the day he learned of her misfortune."

Cersei's face froze!

If that were true, the Mountain was in danger. And if the Mountain fell, more than just his life would be lost; the Imp would escape justice.

The Knight of Flowers, Osmund, Ser Balon, and others watched with bated breath.

In the arena, Oberyn wielded his spear with increasing urgency. The Mountain should have launched an attack, the only way to close the distance. With the Mountain's Valyrian steel greatsword and his unmatched strength, Oberyn would be torn to shreds if he got close. However, the spear cast a web of shadows, enveloping the Mountain's front, and the Mountain defended with all his might, but still fell short. He swung his greatsword, the light of the blade crisscrossing, but always behind the spear's blossom.

Swinging a longsword required the movement of the hand, wrist, elbow, shoulder, waist, and footwork, a wide range of motion that took time, incomparable to Oberyn's speed of changing the spear's trajectory with a mere flick of the wrist.

Oberyn's spearmanship was exquisite and beautiful, practically a perfect dance.

The Mountain, on the other hand, was frantically blocking, barely holding on.

Plate armor was suitable for battlefield charges, the impact force easily breaking through the enemy's lines. The spear tip could penetrate the joints between the plates. The Mountain, having shed his armor, sacrificed his airtight defense for increased speed, but was still controlled by the spear tip, darting up, down, left, and right.

He couldn't even get close.

Oberyn's spear transformed endlessly, thrusting at the Mountain's head, stabbing at his instep, the spear tip everywhere, a mix of feints and real attacks, a dazzling display.

When the Mountain couldn't block, he retreated a step.

No matter how exquisite Oberyn's spearmanship, the Mountain's retreat immediately put him out of harm's way.

"If the Mountain were wearing plate armor, he would have been hit at least twice," said the Knight of Flowers.

Jaime, Osmund, and Ser Balon, all three Kingsguard, nodded in agreement.

Cersei's face turned ugly when she saw the Mountain suddenly retreat two steps.

The murderer who poisoned Joffrey, the Red Viper and the Imp, Cersei couldn't accept their escape. She had thought the duel between the Mountain and the Red Viper would be like a shadow lynx toying with a rabbit, but the situation was the opposite.

Kevan Lannister stared blankly at the life-and-death duel in the arena. After several thrusts, the Mountain retreated another step.

Mace Tyrell couldn't help himself, and Queen Margaery Tyrell was even more worried. Lady Olenna's death had to be avenged; the Mountain couldn't lose.

"Don't retreat anymore, my lord, attack!" Mace shouted anxiously.

Many eyes suddenly turned to Mace, Dornishmen, monks, the Queen Mother, thousands of soldiers, and countless citizens.

Cersei's face was ashen as she said to Jaime, "Tell the Duke to shut his mouth. He can't be foolish enough to influence the Mountain."

In the carriage, the Imp smiled at the jailer beside him. "What's your name, soldier?"

"My lord, my name is Raymond."

"Raymond, after the trial by combat is over, may I invite you and your brothers to have a drink at Old Ode's noodle shop on Silk Street? The finest Arbor Gold, until we're all drunk."

"Thank you, my lord," the jailers said together.

The Imp saw that the Mountain's great size made him slightly slower than Oberyn. Oberyn's speed, combined with the spear's length advantage, completely negated the Mountain's strengths.

The Valyrian steel of the Ice Sword was incomparably sharp, and the Mountain's strength was unmatched, but neither could be brought to bear.

No matter how sharp a sword, it was no threat to Oberyn if it only cut air.

No matter how great the strength, it couldn't harm Oberyn if he couldn't get close.

He had thought the Mountain would crush Oberyn, but now the tables had turned, and the big man was being chased by the little man.

The Dornishmen suddenly erupted in cheers again as Oberyn struck the Mountain's left arm with another thrust. The spear tip withdrew, drawing blood.

The Mountain's left arm mail was pierced, and the leather beneath was also pierced. If the Mountain hadn't slashed at the spear shaft, forcing Oberyn to withdraw and change his attack, the thrust might have pierced his arm.

"What fine spear work!" A soldier in the garrison couldn't help but shout.

Boros Blount and the soldiers turned back to look at the offender, who immediately fell silent, his face pale with fright.

Oberyn, having drawn blood with a single thrust, didn't press his advantage but instead took a step back and laughed, "Mountain, the Seven have said I am innocent, and you are guilty. You are destined to be killed by me."

The Mountain ignored Oberyn's nonsense and dismissed the spear wound on his left arm. He didn't rage, didn't talk back, didn't retort. The heavy greatsword was twirled lightly in his hand, as if he wanted to loosen his stiff body.

Oberyn's heart skipped a beat again!

The Mountain should at least be somewhat angry, but he was as calm as an ice block.

This was no longer the Mountain who would fly into a rage and attack wildly at a provocative word or disrespectful glance. This was a Mountain who could hold his own very well. If the Mountain attacked in a rage, Oberyn was certain he could strike a vital point with his spear, but although the Mountain was at a disadvantage, although he had drawn blood, he didn't care at all.

The taunts and insults of hundreds of Dornishmen had no effect on him either.

This caused the confidence in Oberyn's heart to waver slightly, and his belief in certain victory made him feel uneasy.

Although he had forced the Mountain into a flustered defense, the Mountain's enormous body, having abandoned defense, could still keep up with his spear speed, forcing him to exert all his strength to maintain his advantage.

Although he had struck the Mountain once, he had already reached his limit.

The Mountain's speed was actually astonishingly fast, but his body was too large, making him seem slow.

If his spear shaft were to be struck even once, Oberyn knew he was done for.

But to avoid being struck even once by the Mountain's Ice Sword in such a rapid attack, Oberyn had used all his strength, pushing the spear's transformations to the limit.

At this rate, it wouldn't be the Mountain's huge body that couldn't hold out, but Oberyn himself whose movements would slow down due to the passage of time.

A torrential rain cannot last all day, but a drizzle can linger for days.

Oberyn's extreme speed and spear techniques pushed to the limit were sustained by his stamina. And stamina pushed to the extreme could not last.

But the Mountain, although at a disadvantage, was not flustered at all, calm and collected.

That wasn't all. What alarmed Oberyn even more was that the Mountain wasn't angry.

The Mountain wasn't angry! The Mountain wasn't angry! The Mountain wasn't angry!

This was a situation completely unforeseen in Oberyn's long-term preparations.

Having shed his two-hundred-pound plate armor, the Mountain's stamina was unmatched. His speed was indeed still a little lacking, but Oberyn's tactic of maintaining his advantage and not allowing the Mountain to strike the spear shaft even once was also hindering Oberyn's stamina.

Oberyn decided to make a change.

He had a second tactic.

The Mountain was not angry after being injured, but Oberyn seemed to be angry.

He suddenly glided forward, the spear forming a flower of spear blooms, blossoming on the Mountain's chest, face, abdomen, and knees.

The Mountain swung his greatsword, the sword light weaving a web of light, dazzling and mesmerizing, but always blossoming behind the spear flowers.

Amidst the cheers of the crowd, Oberyn and the Mountain shouted 'Hit!' at the same time. Oberyn's spear struck the Mountain's left shoulder, and the Mountain also cut off Oberyn's spear shaft.

He had finally struck once, at the cost of injuring his left shoulder.

Oberyn's broken spear shaft flew towards the Mountain, and the Dornishmen were greatly alarmed. Cersei, Jaime, the Knight of Flowers, the soldiers of Claw Isle, Koam Werner, Landon Gower, and others cheered together.

The cheers erupted like thunder.

The Imp, who had been relaxed, suddenly became serious!

Oberyn hurled the broken spear shaft in his hand towards the Mountain.

The Mountain didn't dodge. His injured left hand seemed to be uninjured at all. He caught the spear shaft thrown by Oberyn and tossed it aside.

The entire field erupted. Except for the Dornishmen and the monks, thousands of soldiers and countless citizens shouted together.

Cersei was so excited that she almost stood up. "Kill him, Mountain!" Cersei shouted.

The Queen Mother's voice was drowned out by the roar, and even she herself couldn't hear it at all.

Oberyn's hands were empty, but he wasn't flustered. The Mountain didn't rush to pursue, but Oberyn retreated rapidly, back to the Dornishmen. From the crowd, another spear was thrown out. Oberyn caught it and didn't rush to attack. He paused to breathe, regulating his breathing and recovering some stamina.

The previous attack had been like a storm, and the Mountain's sword light had been like a net. Although the net was tight, he had still broken through the defense, seizing a small loophole and striking the Mountain's body again.

The Mountain was struck twice on the left side because he used his sword with his right hand, and the defense on his left side was weaker.

The entire field suddenly fell silent.

Oberyn had another spear, exactly the same as the one that had been cut off by the Mountain.

Cersei's excitement was like being struck with a muffled club.

Jaime had said that Oberyn might have been practicing revenge spear techniques specifically targeting the Mountain ever since he learned of Princess Elia's misfortune, and she hadn't believed it. But now, with Oberyn holding a second spear, she believed it.

Oberyn had probably been preparing for this day for more than ten years.

If he had really only prepared for three days, Oberyn couldn't have had two identical spears. He had also considered the Mountain's unmatched strength. What if the spear shaft was broken by the Mountain? How would he fight then?

He had prepared two spears!

"Is it against the rules of the duel for him to take another spear?" Cersei turned to ask Jaime.

"It depends on the High Septon's understanding of the laws of dueling. The High Septon hasn't come forward to say Oberyn is breaking the rules," Jaime replied.

The duel between the Mountain and the Red Viper was hosted by a bishop from the Great Sept of Baelor. A bishop, not an archbishop. There are seven bishops in the Great Sept of Baelor, corresponding to the seven gods. The one presiding over the duel was the Warrior's Bishop.

"This is unfair!" someone shouted.

The uproar rose and fell like the tide.

However, Oberyn, the Mountain, and the Warrior's Bishop seemed not to hear it.

Clearly, Oberyn had studied the laws of trial by combat and the tenets of the Faith of the Seven regarding trial by combat.

Amidst the many shouts of abuse, Oberyn suddenly moved, charging towards the Mountain. The Mountain saw the Dornishmen behind Oberyn holding a bundle of similar spears, and he moved too.

The two sides suddenly launched into an attack. Dornishmen, the King's Landing city watch, heavy cavalry from Crackclaw Point, Red Priests, civil and military officials all shouted in unison, the sound exploding like thunder, shaking the earth.

Oberyn's spear advantage was still obvious. After feinting a thrust to draw away the Mountain's greatsword, he thrust the spear fiercely at the Mountain's vital chest area. As for the Mountain, he was charging forward rapidly...

The Mountain didn't have time to change his move in his rapid charge. Oberyn's spear was like a dragon, hitting the Mountain's vital chest area squarely...

The entire arena fell silent!

It was as if an invisible long blade had severed everyone's throats!

The echoes of the crowd's shouts still lingered in the sky, booming and reverberating, but everyone was petrified, each with a dumbfounded expression!

The Mountain had been stabbed in the vital part of his chest by the spear, right in the heart!

A loud clang suddenly rang out, followed by a snap. Oberyn's spear shaft broke in the middle, and amidst the flying splinters, the Mountain's rapidly charging massive body didn't stop at all. He reached Oberyn in two steps, and the cold light of the greatsword in his hand flashed, cutting towards Oberyn's neck...

Oberyn couldn't believe it. The Mountain had been stabbed in the heart, yet he could still charge forward so swiftly?! And that spear couldn't pierce his heart, unless, unless, the Mountain had fine plate armor protecting his heart.

But the Mountain had clearly removed his plate armor, wearing only a layer of chainmail and leather...

Everyone was dumbfounded. Oberyn stabbed the Mountain in the heart, and the Mountain charged in front of Oberyn before dying. Was he trying to die together?!

Chop!

A cold light flashed, and a soft sound rang out!

Oberyn's head suddenly flew up, thrown into the high sky, causing everyone to look up and follow the perfect arc. The blood from his still-standing neck gushed out, as if blooming into a huge, blood-colored rose...

With a clatter, the head of Oberyn's spear fell to the ground, bouncing and rolling, the tip already blunted...