Game of Thrones: Paladin of Old Gods

Chapter 188: Dangerous Vibrations (II)

****Needless to justify my abandonment. For some of you it will be unacceptable no matter what I say. Others will have already forgotten about it.... But for the few who remain, I will only say:

The Paladin of the Old Gods is back.

Enjoy Reading.****

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POV: The Red Knight

In the midst of a storm of blades.

At the exact moment a Lion lost control...

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For the first time since the beginning of that skirmish already decided by fate, the Red Knight was in trouble. The swordsman, guided and trained by Zick himself since the tender age of seven, could barely hold the relentless steel storm.

Something was wrong... In so many years of experience and direct witness to superhuman monsters of all kinds, the warrior had never seen anything like it. Not even with Duncan and the fearsome Eleven Open Gates had the warrior experienced such pressure...

This level of fencing was beyond reasonable, simply not possible.

Jaime Lannister's face was glassy and smiling.

The Red Knight suffered a broadsword on her sternum. The Mad Lion had already found an opening in the defence. The swordsman retreated, distancing herself from that fury to catch her breath.

And at that exact moment, in which The Red Knight could minimally perceive the world beyond that storm, a piercing, terribly jarring, and alarmed presence at the highest levels roared into the knight.

{"YOU MUST STOP HIM!!! STOP HIM BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE!!!"}

The alarmed student's eyes turned toward the roaring, magnetic presence over five hundred feet away. Contact with The Watcher's gaze was more dazzling and seductive than a lighthouse on the open sea in the middle of the night.

The Knight raised the slit in her helmet and answered the call by moving her lips in punctuation to ask, {"Master! What's going on?!"}

The presence in the head answered instantly and urgently but in a quieter voice: {"That boy is in danger! Ser Jaime has lost control! There is no time for explanations or games! Do everything you can to knock him out as soon as possible! If you don't, his body will shatter, and his heart will give out!!! Save him, Knight!"} The Knight continued to retreat without detaching his gaze from the Master, distancing himself from the swordsman in total frenzy.

The Watcher's sword obeyed and gave its best to confront the monster in Berserker's state. But... in less than just seven exchanges, the Red Knight was forced into a second retreat.

The Red Knight made a second attempt, trying to give more than 100%, but it was useless...Ser Jaime repelled the assault even more quickly than before.

With each passing second, the skill, strength and speed of the Crazy Lion's sword grew by leaps and bounds... It was simply incontestable.

{"I can't do it, Master! He has become too strong!"} Gasped the individual with shame and a sense of helplessness. The unchanging course of the stars had already been decided...

{"No, You can! You can do it, my child! You are the first sword of the order! I have chosen you as the first Knight because you can do this and much more! And you will not be alone in this struggle. I will lead you... Hold your position and gaze on me, Knight of Love."}

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End POV.

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POV: Ser Jon Cupps

Great Scrum.

Minutes of struggle before a Lion lost control...

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The Lord Commander of the Seven Keepers continued to be gripped by the fearsome double assault of Ser Tristan and Ser Guruklak, the Yellow King's magical guard dogs...

Jon dodged, parried and counterattacked with unparalleled skill all the deadly combos aimed at the front and back of himself. The Oldtown knight's teeth grunted increasingly with each passing second, cursing the cowardice displayed by the Arcane Shields.

*Stiing*,*Claang*,*Swoosh* Jon held his own admirably against another cowardly assault...

'They always aim at my blind spots! That damn lizard fights more like a hitman than a swordsman...! Fuck!!! I can't waste any more time! Ser Garth needs me!' Jon cursed inwardly, grinding his teeth harder.

The situation was grave... For some reason, Bloody Snow had targeted Greysteel, his lord's favourite son, viciously attacking him without reservation. And, although Ser Garth had shown incredible tenacity and skill in fending off that bloodthirsty young demon, the Hightower knight was no match for him. Duncan Tallhart had certainly restrained himself during the duel against the Braavosian...

Jon could not entirely focus his attention on the duo. The blood lust emanating from that 12-year-old demon could be felt ten leagues away. Jon's instincts could not help but turn an eye toward his protg.

Even in that perilous state, Jon could win, sure. The Indomitable had prevailed in worse situations, but in the current state, it would take time, a time he did not have.

Ser Tristan and Ser Guruklak were not fighting intending to defeat him but with the intent of buying as much time as possible and keeping the member of the Seven Keepers pinned in place. Thus making him unable to reinforce Garth and confront Bloody Snow.

By now, Ser Jon Cupps had shelved the plan to test the abilities of Zick's protg. The pressing priority was to get Greysteel out of that steel inferno as soon as possible!

Oldtown's best sword began a fierce counterattack, forcing the dancing lizard back and then charging unreservedly toward Tristan. The Carcosa swordsman was deserving of his fame, for sure. The fencing game was expert and with hundreds if not thousands of deadly experiences he had lived through...

Only the upper echelons of Carcosa knew in detail how old each member of the Twelve Arcane Shields was. Those godless beasts were regularly fed by rivers of Night Essence, the true elixir of long life. Each member could serve periodically for even a century or even two without being plagued by the signs of age.

Ser Tristan's fame began to come to life from the dawn of Maekar's reign, and the magic knight of the East had held firm as Lord Commander for nearly half a century... But despite the abysmal difference in experience, Jon felt deep to the core that he could beat that man with mere steel and pure fencing skill. Such was the talent of Ser Jon Cupps.

The Lord Commander of Arcane Shields absorbed the onslaught of eight projections by concentrating on defence, leaving a gap to a single and insufficient muffled slash toward the thigh. Jon was ready to swing a second steel storm that, this time, would sweep the primary opponent's defence altogether. However, the attacker had to focus his blade toward four lunges from a dual wielder behind him.

The pesky, flexible-jointed lizard was tremendously attuned between attack and defence with his comrade-in-arms. Besides that, his attack style was a: snap, bite and retreat, just like a snake. Easy to face individually but damn annoying to counter against multiple enemies.

Nothing had changed. The standoff between the three combatants remained unchanged.

"Face me in a fair 1-on-1 confrontation. As the true knight you so fear to be! Coward!" Jon ranted defiantly at the Lord Commander of the Arcane Shields.

But Ser Tristan did not fall for the provocation "Mpf, why should I...? This is not the place for real duelling, Ser... This is just play, and we play here for pure fun. Don't you agree too, brother?"

"Assbsoolutelysh, my lord Commanderssh..." slurred the half-lizard mockingly.

"Damn you...! I'll make you pay. I swear by the name of the Seven." Jon eyed the target to be rescued. Garth was knee-deep in the ground, swollen, without a solid arm to hold a weapon any longer as he wielded his remaining half-oak shield.

Bloody Snow was giving him no respite. Then, a possible opportunity for help presented itself. Two, to be precise...

"Ser Mors, Ser Willem! Give our Lord a hand! Get him out of the arena!!!" The members of House Bulwer had finally disposed of their previous opponents. Except for young Willem, still too immature and who knows how still miraculously competing among this slaughter, Mors Bulwer was one of House Hightower's best bannerman fighters.

The two snapped as soon as they noticed the critical plight of Lord Leyton's second son ... however, out of the clouds of dust, a third figure also snapped, intent on protecting the northern boy's back. Ser Braitwur quickly intercepted the duo, stunning Willem with a single blow and restraining Mors like a bull tamer.

Carcosa had deployed as many as three members of the Arcane Shields in the race to protect Duncan Tallhart.

Garth was about to lose the last bit of stamina. The Green Demon had abandoned his sword and shield and thrown himself on the swollen Greysteel in a bare-knuckle beating. Garth's left shoulder must have dislocated, for the man could not lift both arms to protect his face studded with kicks and punches.

'Garth will never declare surrender! I have no choice left!' Jon would not have wanted or even been able to play that card, but as his Lord had said days ago, [Uncertain times call for flexible measures].

However ... before Jon activated the arcane tattoo engraved in his arm, Bloody Snow suddenly broke away from his victim, interrupting all hostility or interest in the fray, turning his gaze toward the stands with an enchanted air. As if someone in the audience had called to him and captured his attention completely. Even the Arcane Shields at his guard could not help but notice the anomaly of events.

Without hesitating or looking around, the boy picked up two long swords from the ground and sprinted at full speed toward the opposite end of the arena.

"Ser Braitwur! Don't let him out of your sight! We'll catch up with you as soon as we can!" Ser Tristan ordered.

"Yes, Lord Commander!" The Arcane Shield sprinted toward the pursuit without even bothering to reap the final blow to Mors Bulwer.

Now that Ser Jon's gaze was on Duncan Tallhart's goal, his innate instinct for danger kicked in. The stunned Commander of the Seven Keepers could not help but think:

'May The Crone light my way. What the heck is going on in this tournament?'

A strange vibration tingled all over his skin. The veteran of a hundred battles sensed a primal and dangerous presence a few hundred feet away... and it was not coming from Bloody Snow.

*****

End POV.

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POV: Duncan

Great Arena.

One minute after a master sent out a second distress signal...

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As soon as I arrived, I could not believe what I had witnessed...

Syggha gave her all in a brutal, no-holds-barred fight that was almost impossible for the untrained eye to discern.

The Red Knight who should have made her debut, the Divisional Commander of the Shield Maiden, a favourite pupil of The Watcher as well as the first Knight of an order buried and forgotten by history, invested by The Watcher himself, had been cornered by a Knight of the West. An exhausted man, his body tried, bordering on failing to the point where he should no longer have been able to properly lift a sword for at least a moon...Ser Jaime Lannister.

'What the fuck is going on? How is this possible? This has nothing to do with the Paladin's blessing here...Then what is it?' It only took me a few moments to superficially analyze the situation.

Jaime must have somehow broken body limiters, venting his repressed potential. But this was not normal at all. It was like a raging river had swept over and knocked down a dam.

Before this event, Jaime had barely reached [Level 10; Rank Squire]... but now, his level kept fluctuating and changing constantly between the peaks of Level 11 to 12!

This was not humanly possible!

Syggha had also exceeded her limits, reaching a [Level 11; Rank Knight], but it was different, and I knew where that surplus came from.

'The Master is using visual synchronicity to support Syggha! The situation is really desperate!'

Jaime's gaze was glassy, amused and bloodthirsty. The body moved like a predatory beast reincarnated as a fencing master. Although the weapons were blunted, the dynamics of the fight were perceptible from a mile away. It was no longer a contest...That was a fight to the death.

'He can't resist...I still need to get a range healing spells. I have to touch him!' but to do so, it was imperative that the Mad Lion must be knocked out first and foremost.

I did not spare myself. I activated my breathing technique to the limit, opened all twelve gates and threw myself into the fray.

The Lion sensed the dangerous intruder behind him. He willingly accepted the double challenge, lifting and grabbing a curved Tyroshi blade with hand and foot to add another makeshift claw to his arsenal.

A roar of booing and cursing from the audience flooded the arena. The spectators did not appreciate my improper intervention in the spectacular duel that was taking place. But none of this was of the slightest importance.

What was at stake here was the life of Jaime Lannister, Tywin's beloved eldest son, one of the three keys to the West, the chosen sword of Magic, and the man who had long ago put his life on the line to save mine.

Syggha synchronized his assault with mine. Ser Jaime was inundated by a steel storm, forcing the Lion into a defensive Dual Wielder style. Several slashes broke through, but the beast's claws protected his head. On the surface, Jaime appeared not to be in the least afflicted by the blows to his side, arms and legs that he suffered. Inside that body, there must have been more adrenaline flowing than blood...

In less than a dozen exchanges, Ser Jaime closed the gap that gripped him, beginning his counteroffensive. The green number above his head swelled and glowed until it peaked at Level 12.

*Clang! Clang!* Jaime parried a two-way double slash while holding both of them still with one arm each. "Urggh!!!" I tried to counter the Lion's full-body strength with the Red Knight's support on the opposite side, but the beast was immovable.

"Roaarhh!" a firmer muscular force from Baragh forced both of them back a few steps, then the beast kicked Syggha, knocking her to the ground despite the advance interception.

At that point, the crazed Lion focused on me, charging me with exhilaration.

"Fiuuu!" I gathered every ounce of concentration for the impending assault. I was ready for the storm of claws.

Jaime leapt into the air, twirling both swords like a cyclone. *Sting, Sting, Sting, Sting, Stiing!* I parried all five multidirectional slashes, then intercepted a deadly slash from above with both blades. A blow that, although I cushioned with dozens of different muscles between my back, arms, shoulders, and legs, still forced me to bend my knee on the ground.

Such a slash would have shattered the helmet and skull of any ordinary knight. My strength, amplified by Zick's technique, was insufficient to counter such blows. That single one-handed blow contained almost as much force as a two-handed axe blow from Victarion Greyjoy...

I lost control over the mental prison for a moment, and immediately afterwards, a wave of wild energy rushed to my aid, enabling me to rise to my feet and counter the force of the Lion. ["What are you waiting for, boy? To stand up to one monster, you need another monster...']

'No, I don't! I want to save him, not kill him!' I rejected the idea by regaining control. Going into a killing frenzy to stop a man afflicted with a killing frenzy was undoubtedly not the answer.

The Lion was ready to lower the second claw, but the Red Knight came to my aid. I took the opportunity to unleash my counteroffensive. I pumped Zick's technique to the limit, hammering the beast with dozens of unpredictable slashes from every direction while the Knight of Love gave his all from the opposite direction.

One of my slashes hit the back of his head, but it was not enough to cause enough damage to destabilize the Lion, seemingly immune to pain.

In any case, we were gaining an advantage. "Let's not give him a break, Syggha!"

Syggha shouted, "We have less than three minutes!" The Watcher must have been able to peer into the limits of Jaime's body and communicated the information to the former disciple.

Although the confrontation was slightly in our favour, we would never have been able to reach our goal in time. Fortunately for us, an unexpected third aid entered the fray.

He was a member of the Arcane Shields, whose name I did not have the head to remember. But the [Level 11; Rank Page] was more than enough to describe his skills.

"Ser...!" the knight anticipated, "I already know everything! The Watcher has requested my intervention! I will help you!"

Our chances of saving Jaime in time had just increased significantly. But nothing was to be left to chance.

[Bless] the Knight of Love and Magic also benefited from the buff.

We surrounded Jaime on three sides.

"Pretty good spell, kid... Well, I guess the situation calls for 'flexibility' to the regulations." The Arcane Shield kicked off the dancing by launching from the hand a semi-perceptible air breeze at Lion's feet, raising a cloud of dust that blinded him for a few moments.

"Let's charge!" Thundered Syggha, kicking off the dance.

At last, the Lion had reached a limit he could not surpass. Our superiority was indisputable. Jaime suffered assaults from every direction, barely managing to parry three-quarters of the blows with no chance to counterattack effectively. Now, the predator had become the prey.

'Yes, we can do it! It's yielding!' I thought with relief just before fate intervened to bring balance...

I underestimated the problem of the audience's disappointment, for all the booing and cursing of dissent at the unequal clash drew someone's attention.

"Three against One! Spuuth! And you call yourselves knights?!" Ser Lyle Crakehall and Ser Addam Marbrand arrived in support of their lord by throwing themselves into the fray.

Beyond that... another presence was behind.

"He is right This is not a fair confrontation, Ser Duncan." An elderly voice, calm but at the same time brimming with fighting spirit, made me sink into frustration.

Ser Barristan Selmy came to the rescue of his own sworn brother...

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End Chapter.

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