The Mountain of Ice and Fire

Igon let out a few Dothraki-sounding guttural noises that no one understood, and the arakh in his hand fell with a clang, startling all the completely stunned people nearby once more.

The people living in Flea Bottom had seen fights and brawls, white blades going in and red blades coming out, but they had never seen such a ruthless person.

The force of this sword strike seemed to contain generations of blood feuds.

However, the bald, black-bearded guy who had delivered such a vicious blow didn't have any viciousness on his face. Instead, he was grinning, holding the sword hilt in one hand and poking Igon's forehead with his little finger, again and again, laughing, "What's the Bloody Hand? Fall, fall, fall, fall!"

Bang!

Igon fell backward, his eyes wide open. Although he was dead, his body's functions were still twitching instinctively, causing his body to convulse. When the heart stops beating, the body's inherent vitality will delay complete death for a while.

Aester and Grandpa Boaz watched in stunned silence, their breaths catching in their throats.

Polliver calmly withdrew his longsword, wiped the blood off the blade on Igon's corpse, and sheathed it. He took out a black object, put it in his mouth, and blew—peep!

A very high-pitched whistle sound, with extremely far-reaching penetration, was something the people of King's Landing had never heard before.

Soon, a carriage came galloping from the other end of the street. The driver was skilled, and the carriage stopped abruptly in front of Polliver, demonstrating the driver's extraordinary horse-controlling skills.

Polliver reached out, picked up Aester, and threw her into the carriage. Grandpa Boaz was shocked, at a loss, and opened his mouth to shout for help, but he couldn't make a sound. Polliver laughed, "Old man, are you planning to stay and have the Bloody Hand chop off your hands and feet, or are you coming with us?"

"…You…I don't know you…" Old Man Boaz instinctively retreated.

In the carriage, Aester's mouth had been covered, stopping her screams. The leg she had stretched out of the carriage was also dragged into the carriage's curtain.

Polliver's right half of his face twitched spasmodically; he was like this when he was excited. He picked up the arakh and took the scabbard from Igon's body. At the same time, the wide carriage curtain was pulled open, and a guy who obviously wasn't a good person jumped out of the carriage, grabbed Old Man Boaz around the waist without explanation, ran a few steps quickly, and threw him into the carriage with a bang.

The old man felt his waist almost breaking, his pain reaching his heart.

"…Who…are you…what do you want…" the old man managed to say, enduring the pain.

However, no one answered him, and no one paid attention to him at all. The soldier jumped into the car and pushed the old man in very rudely.

Polliver held the arakh and pointed it at a dozen or so pale-faced, dumbfounded stall owners: "You, drag this body to the street corner." He kicked Igon's body. "Throw it into the garbage heap, remember my name, I am Eren Green, a knight from House Green of Greyshield Isle in the southern Reach."

Polliver laughed, jumped into the carriage, and shrank into the curtain like a cat.

Even after the carriage was out of sight, the dozen or so stall owners and the street idlers who were watching from afar remained motionless.

They looked at Igon's body on the ground, knowing that this time the trouble was big.

The Bloody Hand was not easy to mess with, but the other party seemed even harder to mess with. With just one sword strike, Igon of the Bloody Hand was killed. Although Igon was unprepared, the viciousness, swiftness, ruthlessness of that sword strike was something everyone had never seen before.

*

A wide, luxurious carriage started from the streets of Flea Bottom and sped forward, out of Flea Bottom, and turned left onto a major city avenue—the Street of the Silent Sisters.

At the end of the Street of the Silent Sisters was Triumphal Plaza, the intersection of the city's four main avenues.

The carriage passed through Triumphal Plaza, turned right, and across the street was the towering gate of the famous Alchemists' Guild, inside which lived the pyromancers who specialized in studying wildfire.

The carriage sped onto another major city avenue—the Street of the Gods. After passing the increasingly lively Cobblers' Square, the coachman lashed the whip fiercely in the air, and the two horses exerted force, heading straight out of the Gods Gate. The avenue outside the Gods Gate connected to the famous Golden Way.

Beside the woods at the intersection of the Golden Way, the Mountain and eight sturdy cavalrymen were waiting for the carriage. Among the cavalrymen were two people with obvious scars on their faces: Master Armorer Tobho Mott and armorer's apprentice Gendry. The two looked listless, appearing to have been dealt with by the Mountain and his party, and finally became honest and obedient.

The carriage stopped, the curtain was pulled open, and Polliver jumped out of the carriage. The cavalryman driving the carriage and a cavalryman inside the carriage dismounted and paid their respects to Gregor Clegane.

"Lord Gregor, we have brought the little girl Aester and the old man Boaz," Polliver knelt on one knee, paying homage to the high and mighty Gregor Clegane.

Gregor nodded: "Polliver, good job, you invited Master Boaz so quickly." Gregor raised his right palm slightly upward, and Polliver and the two cavalrymen stood up.

Polliver said with a grin, "Lord, the little girl Aester has already had her moon's blood."

"Oh, you've already asked her?"

"Yes, Lord. She was already a woman last month."

"Good, do you fancy her?"

"Lord, if you want me to marry her, I will marry her," Polliver laughed, "I am a knight, she is a commoner, she should feel unworthy."

Gregor snorted, and the ten cavalrymen laughed together.

Armorer Tobho Mott and Gendry were angry but dared not speak out.

Gregor drew his longsword. The heavy sword was as light as a small stick in his hand. The longsword lifted the carriage curtain. Inside the carriage, the little girl Aester held Grandpa Boaz tightly.

Gregor said: "Little girl Aester, Master Boaz, don't be afraid, I am Gregor Clegane, this is Knight Polliver Clegane. Aester's father has already betrothed her to Knight Polliver, this is his betrothal letter, take a look." Gregor took out a parchment from his arms. "Master Boaz, can you read?"

Boaz nodded.

"Good, Polliver, let Boaz take a look at Butte's letter."

Polliver took the letter and threw it at the old man. The parchment rolled off the old man and fell into the carriage.

"Polliver, don't be disrespectful to the old man. After you and Aester get married, Master Boaz will be your grandfather."

"Uh, okay." Polliver jumped into the car, picked up the parchment letter and handed it to Boaz.

Boaz took it, looked at it, and couldn't say a word.

"Old man, don't blame your son Butte either. He was gambling in the arena opened by Fang and Rorge, lost a lot of money, and was about to have his neck bitten off by Fang. I went to pay off his gambling debts for him."

The old man and the little girl were speechless, their eyes filled with tears, at a loss.

Gregor continued: "Old man Boaz, Polliver Clegane is a knight of the Clegane family, he is loyal, highly skilled in martial arts, and not bad to his own people. If you also agree to this marriage, I will take you and Aester to live in Clegane Village, and then let Aester and Polliver get married in the Sept of the Seven. From then on, you will be my Gregor's family and elder, and Aester will be my younger sister."

"If you don't agree to this marriage, I will have Polliver rape Aester here first, and then the carriage will take you to Clegane Keep to get married. Old man, do you agree or disagree with this marriage, state your position."

The old man glanced at Polliver, who was eager to try, and then at his own weak little granddaughter, and he nodded mechanically.

Armorer's apprentice Gendry's neck veins bulged, his bull's eyes widened, but he still dared not speak out. Although he had strength, any of the cavalrymen around him could easily kill him.

Thank you: Duke Ferdinand for the reward and support, thank you!