The Mountain of Ice and Fire

At the summit of Casterly Rock, beneath the watchtower, stood Gregor Clegane's two most formidable enforcers in the cold night wind—the most valiant executioner, Dunsen, and the most loyal fanatic, Polliver.

Out of sixty-three cavalry brothers, Gregor had designated these two to handle this minor task. The rest of the brothers were drinking and reveling in Tywin Lannister's castle, their boisterous noise drifting up in waves.

Although this was a small matter, the reward was breathtaking—according to Rafford, during a drunken slip of the tongue, if they handled this matter well, they would be knighted by Gregor upon their return to Clegane's Keep and granted the Clegane name.

This was an honor that would make Dunsen and Polliver unhesitatingly give their lives. Receiving the honor of knighthood and the Clegane surname was the most sacred glory in the hearts of these two fanatics.

Polliver was willing to die to be knighted by Gregor.

Now, Polliver wanted to die.

He stared down the cliff, walking step by step towards the edge.

For some reason, looking into the unfathomable darkness below, after staring for a short while, he felt a beautiful eye in the void gazing back at him, silently encouraging him to jump.

When you gaze into the abyss, the abyss also gazes into you!

It was likely that Polliver deeply understood this saying.

Jumping from the summit of Casterly Rock's watchtower, from a height of over seventy meters, more than twenty stories, onto the irregular, jagged rocks at the base of the mountain, would undoubtedly result in death.

Polliver was a brother-in-arms that everyone except Gregor was unwilling to associate with. Neither Rafford nor Dunsen, including the quick-witted Scribe, liked to deal with him.

Rafford valued 'elegant demeanor' in killing, Dunsen valued 'instant kill,' while Polliver valued 'fragmentary art.' For example, for a problem that could be solved with one knife strike, he always liked to use seventeen or eighteen, leaving behind scattered limbs and flesh, stained with blood. But the more碎肉残肢 there were, the happier and more excited he became, his eyes even glowing green.

He was not only cruel to his enemies but also to himself.

When he was in high spirits, he also liked to play suicide games.

Before every drinking revelry, or before going to war, or before handling a task, Gregor would say to him: Don't stare at anything, don't self-harm, don't commit suicide. Three prohibitions, and then an additional sentence, Got it?

As long as Polliver answered that he got it, the problem was solved. He would firmly remember Gregor's words and execute them completely.

In Polliver's eyes, Gregor was a super idol.

There was a chilling light in Polliver's eyes, and the skin on the right side of his face twitched from time to time, as if he had a slight case of spasms, and a neurotic temperament radiated from him.

"Polliver, what are you doing?" Dunsen shouted, his voice nonchalant.

"I want to jump down," Polliver said.

"Jump later!" Dunsen said with a slight smile.

"I want to jump down now." Polliver stood on the edge of the cliff, the wind blowing his clothes, and he would fall off the cliff if he was not careful. "Dunsen, why do I always want to jump down when I look at this cliff?"

"After the things Lord Gregor told us to do are finished, I'll jump with you," Dunsen whistled casually.

"Really?"

"When have I ever lied to you?" A frivolous tone with absolutely no credibility.

"Okay, let's quickly finish what Lord Gregor told us to do." Dunsen stretched out one foot and dangled it outside the cliff, finding it very fun.

On the ground below the watchtower, several young knights were tied up, each looking dazed and frightened.

The huge torch on the watchtower had been lit, the oil blazing, like a giant sword of flame piercing the sky.

Meeting such a madman, these once-arrogant youths had all been completely frightened.

The young knight in the center was Addam Marbrand.

The other youths were all nobles from the north of the Westerlands, bordering the Westerling family of the Crag. Many lands of the Crag were sold cheaply and mortgaged to their families.

Addam's lips had been broken, and all his front teeth had been knocked out. His noble attire was covered in patches of blood. His front teeth had been knocked out one by one with stones by Polliver. Whenever Addam wanted to scream, Polliver's eyes would radiate excitement because he had made a bet with someone he thought existed in the air, completely invisible. If Addam cried out, he would stab the dagger he had prepared long ago into Addam's eyes.

Several front teeth were knocked out one by one, and Addam endured it throughout the entire process without uttering a sound.

This greatly disappointed Polliver.

The young knights beside Addam were all companions who ate and drank with Addam. The reason they were brought here was that when they were having fun in the afternoon, they had all encouraged Addam to turn Jeyne Westerling into a mistress tonight and had wildly imagined various scenarios.

This was originally the casual banter of developing livestock. Every young man gathered together would discuss certain desirable members of the opposite sex, and young women gathered together would also chirp and discuss the demeanor of a certain handsome knight.

But the speaker was unintentional, and the listener was mindful.

Gregor's status had changed, and many scheming nobles, both big and small, were intentionally or unintentionally trying to curry favor with him.

So, Gregor, whose status had become Tywin Lannister's prospective son-in-law, heard these guys' 'drunken precepts.' After learning in detail that, besides Addam, several of the guys were nobles from the north of the Westerlands bordering the Crag, Gregor reported the matter to Tywin.

Tywin's expression did not change, as if he had not heard anything at all. Gregor suggested that he could say a few words to Addam and the others about this matter, and Tywin did not say a word, but just waved his hand.

So, Polliver and Dunsen invited Addam and his good brothers to the watchtower on the mountaintop in the evening to say a few words and share their hearts.

Besides Addam, the other youths were all bruised and swollen.

They looked very embarrassed, but in fact, they were only slightly injured.

Including Addam Marbrand, although his lips were broken and his front teeth were knocked out, he was actually only slightly injured.

However, their inner collapse and fear of Gregor and his gang were more serious than being slashed a few times.

They had been invited here by a god of slaughter and a madman to talk heart-to-heart for half an hour.

"They're coming up," Dunsen whispered.

Polliver immediately strode away from the edge of the cliff and hid on the other side of the watchtower.

He and Dunsen peered out and saw a youth hurrying over with a black cloak on his back.

The black cloak belonged to Polliver.

"Carried on his back, I won the bet," Polliver said to Dunsen excitedly. "You owe me a gold dragon."

"How do you know that Miss Jeyne is definitely loyal to Lord Gregor? She doesn't love our lord."

"I can tell from her eyes that she is a good person, a noble who has no arrogance towards servants and maids. She is the only one. Only she is worthy of our Lord Gregor. She and Lord Gregor are both very good people."

Gregor is a good person?

The nobles would laugh if they heard it.

But Addam and the other nobles did not dare to laugh at all when they heard it.

They were deeply convinced that this bald, black-bearded guy was a real madman. They could not imagine what terrible things he would do if he provoked him.

And Dunsen, who was beside the madman, was the god of slaughter. Several of them had once swarmed him, but he easily knocked them down, and then Polliver's sword pointed at their throats.

"Get out!" Dunsen cut the rope on Addam's hand with one knife. He only glanced at it out of the corner of his eye, and his knife skills were accurate. "You said you wanted to date Jeyne, now go do it."