The Mountain of Ice and Fire

Riding his horse, Ian saw the Mountain's massive, giant-like figure from afar. He spurred his horse forward, inwardly cheering.

Such a burly man was a rare sight in the world, a true divine being.

Ian was a gladiator from the East, having fought countless fierce men in life-or-death battles. He was knowledgeable and experienced, and in his lifetime of fighting, he had never seen such a burly and imposing giant. He galloped towards him, and the giant stood there, as tall as he was on horseback.

Ian was also a strong man, with a burly physique, but in front of this giant, his physical advantage vanished.

The giant gave him mountain-like pressure.

Ian's hardened soldiers saw the countless severed limbs and scattered organs on the ground, like a scene from hell. These mercenaries were all ruthless men, but their faces changed.

Such bloodshed and brutality, disembowelment, decapitation, and bloodstains everywhere, were rarely seen.

On the ground, it was almost impossible to find a complete human body.

The giant held a giant sword in one hand, a sword that no soldier had ever seen before.

A giant sword matched a giant man! Majestic and unparalleled!

Ian, who had fought his way out of countless life-and-death struggles in the arena, couldn't help but change his expression, fear rising in his heart. This fear was not of death, but an instinctive dread of something beyond his comprehension.

Ian was cruel and bloodthirsty, excited by the sight of blood.

But today's blood seemed a bit too much.

Ian had also killed many people, with white blades going in and red blades coming out. He had also beheaded people, but he had never seen enemies sliced in half like this.

Ian's favorite battles were those where the opponent was stronger, which made him even more excited.

But this time's enemy, although only one, seemed too powerful.

Standing, he was as tall as Ian on horseback. He was a giant clad in steel.

Ian never wore armor, fighting bare-chested, his body covered in scars, many healed scars looking like super centipedes crawling on his body. He saw the Mountain's plate armor and the sword marks on it, and he stared intently at the Mountain's terrifying two-handed greatsword.

The length and thickness of the Mountain's two-handed greatsword were something Ian had never seen before. Before this, Ian had never heard of such a heavy greatsword in the world that could be used in combat.

In fact, Ice was not a greatsword used for combat, but a Stark family ceremonial sword, used exclusively for executions and sacrifices.

When this sword was to be used for execution, it required a dedicated person to carry it, just like the Mountain's oak shield, which was so heavy that it required a warhorse to carry it during marches and battles. When drawing the sword, someone needed to hold the scabbard horizontally, and then the Duke of Stark would use both hands to grip the hilt to draw it out.

This sword was extremely sharp and too heavy. The original owner of the sword, Duke Stark, never used it for combat because it was impossible to wield. Usually, the sword was carried by the Duke of Stark's captain of the guard.

Although it was a two-handed greatsword, the giant wielded it with one hand. Watching the giant's wrist move, easily swinging out sword flowers, as easily as wielding a small dagger. And the plate armor on the Mountain made him look like a small mobile fortress. Ian could see that the Mountain's protective plate armor was very hard, protecting the body under the iron shell well.

"Who is the warrior?" Ian asked hoarsely.

Ian always went straight into battle, never wasting a word with the enemy.

"If you want to fight, then fight. If you don't, then get lost," the Mountain said indifferently.

The giant's voice boomed like thunder.

The power of his voice was something Ian had never experienced before.

Ian's anger surged, the opponent's arrogance arousing his bloodlust and cruelty, suppressing his instinctive fear of the giant.

Ian's face was livid. He squeezed his legs, reined his horse around, and the warhorse turned and left.

The thousand-man group behind him roared and cleared a path, well-trained.

The Mountain snorted, pushed up his mask, and fresh air suddenly filled his mouth and nose, relaxing his whole body.

He hadn't seen any archers in the opponent's thousand-man group, so he dared to take the liberty of pushing up his mask.

The purpose of the helmet mask was to prevent stray arrows.

But the disadvantage was also obvious, in that it would affect breathing during battle.

Although the Mountain was used to the mask, he had just experienced a fierce battle, and pushing up the mask allowed him to relax his body and mind.

In the sky, there were two dragons watching over him, and a beautiful dragon rider - Daenerys Targaryen.

The Mountain was very relieved.

Since he came to challenge, he had also made careful plans. He had also learned about and studied the weapons used by the guards around the Sea Lord beforehand.

Narrow swords could not break armor, he was very confident in that.

His plate armor and the chainmail underneath had been tested against sword and arrow attacks by the weapon masters Tobho Mott and Duke Gendry Baratheon.

However, the Mountain still didn't expect the mercenary captain hired by the Sea Lord to retreat on horseback after only saying one sentence to him.

Were the mercenaries hired by the Sea Lord so lacking in professional spirit and warrior's honor?

However, the Mountain soon realized he was wrong.

The mercenary captain ran his horse through the thousand-man group, reined it around, and roared towards the Mountain.

It turned out that this guy wanted to use the power of the warhorse to ram into the Mountain.

He knew that the Mountain was too big, and fighting on foot would not be a match for the Mountain.

He retreated on horseback, and then galloped wildly, the inertial force of the horse reaching his arms.

Ian was not only brave, but also had a good head on his shoulders.

A person who could survive hundreds of arena fights, if relying solely on bravery, would have died countless times already.

Ian was a gladiator with brains.

The Mountain's eyes lit up when he saw Ian turn back.

Suddenly, the sound of hooves exploded, and the thousand-man group shouted together to cheer for their leader, Ian.

Charging on horseback, seeking battle.

He did not retreat and let his thousand-man group besiege the Mountain.

Perhaps this thousand-man group was his capital, and he didn't want to be hacked to death by the Mountain. Although he could eventually exhaust the enemy with numbers, the cost might be too great.

Or perhaps, Ian was a true warrior with honor, leading by example, fighting the enemy first.

The Mountain put down his mask, and with a backhand, with a clang, the Ice greatsword returned to its sheath.

The Mountain stepped forward, stood in the middle of the road, opened his arms, and provoked Ian to fight.

The thousand-man group of mercenaries all changed their expressions again.

This giant actually wanted to fight Ian empty-handed.

Empty-handed!

He actually put the greatsword back into its sheath and raised two fists wearing iron gauntlets.

Ian's warhorse, heavy axe, galloping, battle axe raised high, hooves exploding, carrying unparalleled power. The battle axe was sharp, the axe blade gleaming, and because of its weight and power, breaking armor was easy. Even if the Mountain's armor was different from ordinary armor, it would definitely not be able to withstand the fierce blow of the battle axe.

Ian's long-handled heavy axe, compared to the Sea Lord's swordsmen's small narrow swords, completely crushed them in terms of armor-breaking.

The Mountain's flat-topped giant helmet, would only need one axe to be dented, squeezing the head inside the helmet to burst.

Ian was battle-hardened and skilled in combat. He naturally knew how to use a heavy axe to break armor, and also knew how to use a heavy axe to strike the enemy's vital points.

The warhorse roared and charged in the cheers of the thousand-man group.

The Mountain did not move.

Suddenly, he roared, like a spring thunder exploding on the ground. In the roar, the Mountain rushed towards Ian.

This movement was as powerful as a galloping horse.

The warhorse and the giant charged at each other, approaching in an instant. The axe blade of Ian's battle axe drew a silver light, like starlight falling, and slashed fiercely towards the Mountain's head.

The Mountain did not parry, nor did he dodge. His stride suddenly increased at the moment of charging against the warhorse, and he suddenly arrived in front of the warhorse, facing it with a punch. With a loud bang, the horse's head was suddenly hit by the giant fist wearing an iron gauntlet, like a giant hammer hitting a blood-colored water bag.

The water bag was blown open with one blow, and blood-colored liquid splashed.

The Mountain first slowed down his speed while running, and then suddenly changed his rhythm, increased his speed in an instant, and widened his stride, seizing the initiative.

With one punch, the warhorse's head was completely shattered.

At the moment the warhorse's head shattered, Ian's battle axe roared down, but had already lost its aim.

The Mountain borrowed the force of the warhorse's head being shattered to step to the side, his stride huge. With just one step, he created a safe distance.

The force of the warhorse's impact was not small, equivalent to the impact force of half a small car in the Mountain's Earth civilization. The Mountain's arms and body also shook violently, and this step well dissipated the reaction force of the warhorse.

The warhorse did not let out a whimper. The sudden strong resistance and the force of its forward momentum caused it to rise into the air and flip over with a bang.

Ian and his heavy axe were thrown off the horse's back together.

The heavy axe only managed to unleash half of its power.

The mercenary soldiers of Ian's thousand-man group were all dumbfounded.

A galloping warhorse suddenly flipped over and rose into the air...

Their leader Ian on horseback was also suddenly thrown into the sky...

The sharp heavy axe flew out of his hand, spinning in the air...

The shattered horse head was like a blood-colored water bag exploding... flesh and blood flying...

The fierce collision force... above a thousand pounds... easily crushing, tearing, and squeezing any flesh and blood...

Clang!

A loud noise, the heavy axe fell to the ground...

Bang!

A muffled sound, the warhorse's corpse crashed to the ground...

Thump!

Ian also fell from the sky. He was not wearing a shirt, nor armor or leather. The impact of the bluestone slab made his face a bloody mess... He tried to prop up one arm... and finally fell down... his chest heaving... he did not die from the fall...

Footsteps sounded, and a huge shadow shrouded Ian's body. Ian barely opened one eye, his entire face and head were numb, and the other eye was smeared with blood.

His fleshy face collided with the bluestone slab. It was already remarkable that he had not fainted, which also proved that Ian's pain tolerance was extraordinary.

"I am the Mountain," a powerful voice rang out.

Ian felt his body being turned over. The Mountain stretched out one foot and kicked him over, so that he was lying face up.

"I am the King of Westeros. I now need a true warrior to fight for me. Are you a warrior?"

The Mountain's right foot was placed on Ian's chest.

Ian's one eye stared at the Mountain. He could only see that terrifying gaze from the narrow gap in the mask.

Ian was extremely sensitive to life and death. He knew that as long as he did not submit, the giant would exert force and break all the bones in his chest, and the broken ribs would pierce his heart.

Ian had seen countless people, but he had never seen such a brave person in the world.

Moreover, this person was the King of the opposite continent?!

He came here alone, crossing the Narrow Sea, to kill the Sea Lord?

Just by himself?!

What kind of person was this? What kind of king? What kind of thing caused this? What kind of miracle and feat was this?

Ian couldn't believe it!

If this invincible giant was really the King of Westeros, coming to Braavos alone to kill the Sea Lord, just with this courage and boldness, he was willing to follow him, wholeheartedly. What could be more glorious than following such a brave and invincible King? The wandering life of a mercenary earning mercenary money was not as prestigious and noble as being a general of the King.

Mercenaries, will follow whoever pays them. Today they can fight for you, and tomorrow they can fight for your enemies to attack you. But after swearing allegiance, they will change from 'irregular army' to 'regular army'.

"Are you the Mountain King of Westeros?"

"In the name of the gods," the Mountain said.

In the name of the gods!

What could be more convincing than the name of the gods?!

"In the name of the gods, Ian swears allegiance to Your Majesty."

"I am the King of the Rhoynar, the Andals, and the First Men, Protector of the Realm, Duke of Dragonstone, King of the Crab Coast, Emissary of Light of the Red God, Son of God who slayed the Night King, the Unmatched Gregor Clegane, King."

The giant foot, like a boulder, moved away from his chest, and Ian's pressure eased.

Ian got up, knelt on one knee, lowered his head, and placed his right fist on his left chest: "Ian from the East, in the name of the gods, swears allegiance to the King of the Rhoynar, the Andals, and the First Men, Protector of the Realm, Duke of Dragonstone, King of the Crab Coast, Emissary of Light of the Red God, Son of God who slayed the Night King, the Unmatched Gregor Clegane, King. From this moment until the end of my life, Ian will fight for King Gregor Clegane and never betray him."

The Mountain pushed up his mask, took off the iron gauntlet on his right hand, and raised his right hand: "Rise."

Ian stood up, tall and burly with black iron muscles, and suddenly became slender and petite in front of the Mountain.

"Go ask your brothers, those who are willing to follow me, stay. Those who are not willing to follow, give them their pay and let them leave freely."

"Your Majesty, not one of my brothers will leave."

"Very good. Now I order you to open the gates of the Sea Lord's palace and bring the Sea Lord before me."

"Your Majesty, the Sea Lord has the most powerful navy. Once the news spreads, tens of thousands of sailors from the armory and naval port will arrive, and we will not be able to leave."

"A hundred thousand sailors, in my eyes, are nothing more than ashes in a pile of flames."

Ian was overjoyed. He looked up at the sky, but there was no shadow of a dragon in the sky. But he already knew that the dragon was in the sky.

The news that the King of Westeros possessed a dragon had naturally spread throughout Essos. Ian naturally also knew that the Mountain was a king who possessed a dragon.

Demon Mountain said blandly, "Ian, attack the Sea King Palace immediately and capture the Sea King."

"As you command, Your Majesty." Ian's right face was a bloody mess, his expression ferocious, his left eye gleaming.