"Eddard Stark. Draw your sword. Just you and me."
Jaime dismounted, drawing the longsword from his waist and looking provocatively at the Hand of the King, Eddard.
"But just so you don't accuse me of threatening you with my brother's life, I promise that after I defeat you, I'll spare your life in exchange for my brother, returned whole."
"Do you know who these people are? That's the fucking Hand of the King! The Warden of the North!"
In a dark alleyway nearby, thirty or forty men with their faces covered in black cloth were lying in wait.
Rorge sounded agitated. Is this guy crazy? He wants us to attack the Hand, Eddard Stark? He must be out of his mind!
"Look at you, getting anxious again. You recognize Hand Eddard, but don't you recognize who that white-cloaked knight is?" Iron-Pumping Superman crossed his arms, looking completely unconcerned.
Beside him, Moon-Fang was recording the impending "unlimited rules" duel for his livestream viewers with great interest.
They had been trailing the Hand for a while, and unexpectedly stumbled upon this hidden side quest. Great. Let the dogs fight each other. When they're both bloody, we'll swoop in and take the prize.
"Fuck, is this something small fry like us should be getting involved in?" Rorge complained.
"No, no, no. You are small fry. I am not. Standing behind me is His Grace, King Viserys Targaryen, your true King.
You know my methods. Wait until they've battered each other. Then your men go in. Go for Eddard and Jaime. Kill one, and the King makes you a knight. Kill both, and he gives you land, making your descendants nobles forever!"
Iron-Pumping Superman placed a hand on Rorge's shoulder, his tone chilling.
"You can represent the King?" Rorge's tone softened.
"I can't represent the King to give you rewards directly, but the King will not mistreat a meritorious subject. Think about it. One is the Usurper's best friend, a rebel from back in the day.
The other is the Kingslayer who killed the late King. If you kill either of them, are you afraid the King won't reward you?" Iron-Pumping Superman seduced the big fool before him.
"Hmph. I'm afraid that even if we get the reward, we won't make it out of King's Landing alive!" Rorge replied stiffly.
"Why do we need to leave? The King is a waste who only knows how to eat, drink, and whore. The only capable one is this Hand, Eddard. If you kill him, who's going to investigate? The Commander of the City Watch?"
Iron-Pumping Superman curled his lip in disdain.
Rorge fell silent, his eyes fixed on the two groups getting closer to a violent clash.
"I'll go get the City Watch!" Littlefinger stepped out of the brothel and said from behind Eddard.
"I advise you to go back inside, or I guarantee I'll cut you down first."
Jaime's sword kept Littlefinger from taking a single step. He could only shrink back into the brothel resentfully.
"Except for our Lord Hand, leave no wolves alive."
At Jaime's command, the wolves and lions began a bloody slaughter.
Eddard's captain of the guard, Jory, was indeed skilled. With a longsword in hand, he cut down several Red Cloaks wielding spears in moments.
Enraged, Hand Eddard drew his own sword, playing right into Jaime's hands. This highly skilled white-cloaked knight was arrogant, and perhaps only the likes of a young Ser Barristan, the late Ser Arthur Dayne, Prince Rhaegar, or the Smiling Knight could make him drop that arrogance.
The Northman Jory stood before Jaime with a bloodied sword. At his feet lay the fifth Red Cloak he had cut down.
Without wasting words, the two crossed swords. Jory was a rare talent, but in front of a top-tier fighter like Jaime, he was outclassed.
By the time Eddard broke free from the encirclement of Red Cloaks, his captain, Jory, was already lying on the ground, silent forever.
At the same time, the Winterfell guards protecting the Hand had been wiped out. In contrast, Jaime still had seven or eight Red Cloaks left.
Jaime smiled as he wiped the blood from his sword, signaling with his eyes for Eddard to face him one-on-one.
"I will kill you!" Eddard coldly slit the throat of the Red Cloak he had pinned beneath him.
"I never thought you were a match for Ser Arthur Dayne." Jaime walked slowly forward.
Thwack!
"Ugh!"
A spear flew through the air and pierced Eddard's calf.
The Hand, his leg impaled, dropped to one knee.
Jaime turned back in anger, only to see his own men looking bewildered.
"Kill!"
Suddenly, twenty or thirty men burst out from all sides. They were armored, wielding swords and displaying ferocious expressions.
In the alley, Iron-Pumping Superman held Rorge back.
"Good. I guessed right. I just didn't expect them to wait this long to make their move."
Iron-Pumping Superman spoke slowly.
"Them? You arranged for other people?" Rorge looked confused.
"Nothing to do with you. Let them wade in first. We strike last." Iron-Pumping Superman said.
"I'm afraid the City Watch will be here soon!" Rorge was anxious.
Iron-Pumping Superman gave Jaime a meaningful look and said:
"If they were coming, they'd be here by now. Unless someone with weight goes to find them, Paro's brain-dead boss won't send anyone. Wait."
"That is the Hand of the King," Rorge muttered.
"Kill them both! We split the reward equally!"
"Be careful everyone! The update dropped! If you die, you can't corpse rush anymore!"
"Deal with them!" Jaime looked displeased.
His Red Cloaks immediately turned their spears to face the new enemy.
Jaime cast a cold glance at Eddard, whose forehead was beading with cold sweat, then turned, mounted his horse, and left the scene.
"Don't let him get away!"
The identity of the newcomers was self-evident: they were players who had been hiding in King's Landing, staying true to their original mission of assassinating ministers or the Usurper.
Seeing a big target about to slip away right under their noses, these players panicked. Some even pulled out homemade Molotov cocktails they had crafted recently.
Whoosh! Whoosh! They threw them.
Unfortunately, their aim was terrible. And while Jaime's horse wasn't exactly Red Hare, it was fast enough to disappear from the players' sight in moments.
"Damn it! Killing that one will do too!"
"Hurry up! Don't let the Gold Cloaks show up!"
The remaining Red Cloaks were soon slaughtered by the players, though they took a few down with them.
The players quickly turned their attention to the immobilized Eddard.
"You guys go." Iron-Pumping Superman, who had been observing from the shadows, waved his hand, signaling the bewildered Rorge to leave with his men.
He then patted Moon-Fang on the shoulder.
Moon-Fang pulled a crossbow from his cloak, aimed at Eddard, and loosed a bolt.
Thwack!
Eddard's pupils dilated violently. An arrow was buried in his throat.
"Nice shot!"
"Fuck! Nice my ass! That wasn't one of ours!"
"City Watch! Drop your weapons!"
"Go!" Seeing that Moon-Fang had succeeded, Iron-Pumping Superman put away the short crossbow he had prepared for a follow-up shot. The two turned and fled.
"Fuck! We're the scapegoats!"
"Damn, that's dirty!"
A large detachment of the City Watch was closing in. The players could only curse in frustration before turning to flee.