"Oh!"
A wave of exclamations came from the crowd.
It wasn't that Wright was exceptional, but when Jaime swung the sword with both hands, his strength was drained in an instant. His legs gave way, and the force of the greatsword's swing was too much for him to pull back. He fell to his knees, and the sword nearly dragged him to the side, almost causing him to fall face-first into the mud.
"Oh!"
Another round of gasps filled the air as the blood-red sword aura surged toward Wright. Wright, still holding his ice shield, hadn't moved yet, and the crowd behind him screamed and scattered in all directions.
Did they think I would dodge? With Dragonbone Battle Armor on, along with the ice shield and Iron Armor, Wright thought to himself. These nobles really underestimated me.
The sword aura swept toward him, and Wright estimated its length. He took a wide stance, lowered his left hand, and positioned the shield horizontally in front of his chest. At the very moment the sword aura was about to strike the shield, he pushed forward with his left hand, using the shield to collide with the sword energy.
"Ha!"
Bang!
Wright's roar, accompanied by the sound of the sword energy clashing with the ice shield, exploded almost simultaneously. The red crescent-shaped sword aura dissipated into a cloud of red mist, and the ice shield shattered completely. Ice fragments flew into the air, sparkling like rubies in the red light as they scattered around Wright.
When the light faded, Wright stood unscathed, his left hand only missing the shield, perfectly intact.
"Now, that's invigorating!" Jaime struggled to get back on his feet, shouting to motivate himself. He gripped the greatsword again, assuming a defensive posture, determined to continue fighting Wright. Inside, however, he was frustrated.
The sudden drain of his energy had been an experience he couldn't have imagined under normal circumstances. Even though he'd prepared mentally for it, he still nearly stumbled and ate mud.
Magic-infused items were not something just anyone could wield. To use this greatsword, one had to be both a powerful mage and a physically capable warrior. The sword was long and heavy, and while Jaime wasn't as strong as Wright, swinging it one-handed lacked force. Two-handed swinging drained his energy quickly. Jaime dared not attack now, instead opting to focus on defense and recovering his stamina.
Seeing Jaime constantly shift his defensive stance, Wright realized he was using the opportunity to recover. He didn't immediately attack but instead began swinging the Sun's Maiden sword to reacquaint himself with the weapon.
Wright's height was 1.91 meters, the same as Renly's, and it had stopped growing by then. For the Baratheon family, this was normal, but on the continent, it was considered tall and imposing. The Sun's Maiden was forged by Wright to sell for money. Valyrian steel was light, and this sword was slightly longer than an ordinary longsword, making it easy to wield. However, in Wright's hands, it felt a bit short and he wasn't accustomed to this sword that was neither long nor short for him.
The pale blue Sun's Maiden, after being infused with magic, emitted a blue glow from the engravings on the blade, drawing everyone's attention as Wright swung it.
"I heard that during the Meereen War, Wright used that blood-red sword aura almost continuously. When he fought, the battlefield was filled with the red sword energy, and no enemy left with a full body," Willen Lannister, who was different in personality from his twin brother Martyn, said as he turned to his cousin Tyrek, who was standing beside him. Willen was interested in studying martial skill, and seeing the two pause in their fight, he spoke up.
"Many have tried Wright's sword. Thoros the mage once said in a tavern in King's Landing that he could unleash ten sword auras," Tyrek replied, arms crossed. If Wright hadn't shown up, Tyrek would have been serving King Robert alongside his brother Lancel. Now, aside from delivering Tywin's compensation to King's Landing a few times, he hadn't even seen Robert's face.
"Really? Taking magic out of the equation, Jaime's younger and in better shape than Thoros, right?" Willen asked.
"Thoros was drunk that day and was slurring his words. The truth of it is questionable," Tyrek laughed after replying, realizing that Thoros had likely been spouting drunken nonsense. After seeing Jaime's performance today, Tyrek fully understood that Thoros had just been talking out of his alcohol-induced stupor.
"It looks like Lord Wright's strength isn't just about wielding powerful weapons. After the duel, I'm switching my sword to a greatsword as well," Willen chuckled.
"We Lannisters don't use greatswords," Tyrek replied. "The Hound isn't around, but if you're interested, you can ask Lord Wright. Everyone knows he's a mage, but they've forgotten that he's the strongest warrior on the continent."
Willen laughed heartily. "That's because of his brother, King Robert. The King stripped mages of the right to participate in tournaments. Wright has never made a name for himself in any of them."
Tyrek nodded. "But the Valyrian steel sword that Lord Tywin bought for a great price... At first, I thought it was nothing special and not worth the price, but now, seeing it in Wright's hands, it has revealed its hidden abilities. It's a shame we Lannisters don't have a mage."
"We do have ancient bloodlines," Willen said, smiling. "Just because we don't have a mage in this generation doesn't mean we won't have one in the future."
Just as he finished speaking, Wright moved.
The cold air from the Sun's Maiden froze the muddy ground beneath him, and as the icy surface spread toward Jaime's feet, he shifted to step onto it. Just then, Wright charged forward.
Wright didn't want to bully Jaime, so from a distance, he raised his greatsword high and assumed a stance as if preparing to deliver a vertical strike.
Wright, being a master, would never attack in such a straightforward manner. Jaime's heart raced, his thoughts racing through countless scenarios, wondering whether Wright would strike from the left or right. When the greatsword came down vertically toward him, it was too late to dodge. He had no choice but to grit his teeth and raise his sword to block.
Clang~~~
The distinctive sound of Valyrian steel clashing rang through the entire camp.
Jaime felt the sword not exerting much force and realized that Wright had spared him by not striking with full power. When Jaime tried to create distance to continue the fight, the chilling air from the Sun's Maiden burst forth, instantly enveloping him in a cold, white mist.
The condensed cold air surrounded Jaime and then spread toward the spectators behind him. Those who weren't quick enough to dodge felt a piercing cold, as if they had fallen into icy water.
Another gust of wind blew, dispersing the cold. Wright, with his sword angled toward the ground, was using wind magic.
As their vision cleared, the onlookers saw that those who had been hit by the cold were covered in a layer of ice, and Jaime, standing before Wright, was no different. If Wright hadn't stopped in time, these people would have been frozen solid.
"Not allowing magic users to participate in duels... was absolutely the right call. No more fighting!" Jaime shivered, speaking through chattering teeth.
The duel that Jaime had initiated was now over. If it weren't for the upcoming Valyrian steel sword auction, where Wright planned to showcase his forging skills, he wouldn't have wasted so much time with Jaime.
Wright twirled his greatsword before handing it to Jaime. "I've always remade weapons in the forge. When I first forged Valyrian steel, I made only four weapons—Robert's Discord, Stannis' Judgement, Renly's Storm, and this one, the Sun's Maiden. Those other three were custom designs, so don't be fooled by the plain appearance of this one. Everything I make is top-notch."
After handing the massive sword back to Wright, Jaime took his own sword and nodded toward him, too cold to speak any further.
"Take off your clothes, get some sun, and soak in a hot bath. With your body, you won't get sick. I'll take care of the dragons. We'll head north with the army tomorrow morning."
Having said this, Wright slung the greatsword over his shoulder and walked straight toward the small hill where Odahviing rested.
The camp's main gate was in the opposite direction, and Wright's path seemed to lead to a dead end. The onlookers were puzzled, but soon they saw Wright leap towards a two-meter-high wooden fence, using his hands to support himself as he easily flipped over it, landing with grace.
His movement was smooth and fluid, impressively stylish. Countless young people watched in awe, their eyes gleaming with admiration.
Given Wright's status, he certainly had a luxurious tent in the camp, but those who frequently followed him knew why he chose to sleep with the dragons—because the camp smelled of all kinds of waste. Horse waste, human waste, all mixed with rotting mud, would soon spread throughout the entire camp under the sun. Anyone who had lived in Tyrosh for a while would find this lifestyle unbearable.
Wright approached Odahviing and found a small patch of grass to sit on.
"Damn!"
In his eagerness to show off, he had forgotten to bring food. He'd have to go back to the camp later.
The sky's clouds were blown away by his dragon-speech magic, and the effect would last for a day. This change in the weather wouldn't affect the Riverlands, and Wright planned to let it blow all the way.
Unlike the White Walkers, vampires were harder to spot. When they weren't in their transformed state, they appeared completely human, making it a challenge to identify them. Wright had to travel with the army; these soldiers served as both combatants and spies, luring the vampires out to feed.
Lying on the grass, chewing on a red flower, Wright began to drift into thoughts. He noticed someone approaching, opening his eyes to see a group of young soldiers, about ten or so, all in armor and carrying weapons. Some even had baskets in hand.
"Lord Wright, we've brought you some food." They stood at a distance on the hillside, hesitant to approach. Odahviing's imposing size made even a slight movement of his neck seem like a ship passing overhead.
Wright stood up slowly and walked down the hill. He recognized everyone in the group, as they had been introduced to him before. Some were from the Riverlands, others from the Westerlands, both men and women.
"Lord Wright, this is cured meat from the Westerlands, with Northern spices sprinkled on it. Give it a try?" said Cerenna Lannister, one of the girls trying to win Jaime's affection.
Wright wasn't worried about poison. He tore off a piece and chewed. The Stark family's spice trade had done well. With winter approaching, transportation across the North would become a real challenge. The Northerners weren't eager to leave their homeland. It was uncertain how much progress Robb could make in his talks with his father once he returned to the North.
"Uncle Wright, eat this honey cake," her twin sister, Myrielle, said, offering a plate from the basket.
The other boys remained a bit shy, not saying anything.
"Uncle? You all came here to bring me food, so what is it that you need from me?" Without realizing it, Wright had been in this place for 25 years and had gradually become an elder for the new generation of youngsters.
"We want to ask you about swordsmanship," a boy in his teens said.
Wright looked at him. "Oh, you're Harry Rivers, now probably called Harry Bracken, right?"
"Mm!" Harry nodded.
Harry Rivers, the illegitimate son of Lord Jonos Bracken, was the last remaining heir to House Bracken after the family's five daughters followed Robert. Originally in power, the family fell when Robert fell ill, and all five sisters faced early deaths. Jonos's nephew and heir, Hendry, died in the trial by combat against House Blackwood, and Harry changed his surname to Bracken as the family's only remaining hope.
Wright then looked at the others. "Are you all the same?"
"Yes! Lord Wright," said Willen and Tyrek, both Lannister.
"Mm-hmm, Uncle Wright."
Wright was starving and was eating the pickled meat with the cake. "You all should be past the basics of learning. Now, it's about specific weapon training based on your body types. I don't actually know much; I can't use lance techniques, only the greatsword."
"Yes, yes, the greatsword!" Willen eagerly took the greatsword from his back and gripped it, clearly excited.
Wright found a clean large stone to sit on, then patted it, signaling the others to come over. "Let me first see your basic skills."
After saying this, he threw out a magic orb, summoning a purple-armored skeleton holding a double-headed axe into the open space.
"Who wants to go first? Don't worry, it's under my control, it won't be too rough."
"I'll go!" Tyrek, the oldest and most steady among them, stepped forward to face the skeleton.
The sound of clashes echoed as the skeleton, indeed, held back its strength, using only the hilt or the side of the sword to strike Tyrek. Even so, it was enough to send Tyrek tumbling around. The highest-level skeletons from the Soul Cairn were not something these young boys could handle easily.
For Wright, the Lannisters were no longer a concern. He faced much higher-level enemies now, and wars between commoners held little interest for him. Even if some place went against the king's will and tried to rebel, the Stormlands, with its wealth and strong armament, could easily suppress it, leaving Wright with no need to act.
There were no eternal enemies, nor eternal allies. If not for Cersei's troubles, the Lannister family would still be one of the strongest allies of House Baratheon. A deep friendship had existed between Tywin and Robert's generations.
The boys took turns battling the skeleton, while the girls sat next to Wright.
"Uncle Wright," said Selina, "tell us how Nymeria fought."
His wife was so charming, and now she had even attracted young women from the Westerlands? Wright was puzzled. "Why are you all suddenly interested in her?"
The girls exchanged glances. "We only started picking up weapons to become knights after hearing about Nymeria's story."
It would be impolite to look at their bodies, so Wright waited for them to speak before daring to glance at their armor. It was clear that each family had male designs for armor, and the girls, in order to wear them, had to put on several layers of clothes underneath. Thankfully, the weather had turned cooler, so it wasn't too hot.
"Which story did you two hear?" Wright asked with a smile.
"Her raid on the Vaith River!"
"The siege of Godsgrace!"
"The killing of the turtle!" Myrielle said, clearly intrigued by that part.
This required a full explanation. "Let me start from Nymeria's story at the start!" Wright said, all the while keeping an eye on the boys' skills, as he began telling the girls about Nymeria's battles.
Originally, Wright had only planned to help Nymeria build a strong reputation for her rule in Dorne, while also alleviating the labor shortage on the Stone Steps Islands by promoting women's productivity. He had sent his informant, Andrew, to spread stories about her courageous battles.
To his surprise, this had influenced noblewomen in Westeros, especially the younger generation. The older generations still clung to tradition, but many young women had taken up swords, preparing to fight alongside their brothers to earn military glory. This might be the precursor to a movement.
Westeros wasn't unfamiliar with such ideas. Queen Alysanne Targaryen had supported women's independence, but she was too radical, aiming to allow women to participate in governance. At that time, official positions were earned through hard-won battles, and her idea to erase that through a simple declaration met with great resistance. It even led to an assassination attempt while visiting the baths in the town of Maidenpool.
Even two centuries later, she still had enemies. In the North, Roose Bolton had publicly declared his hatred for Queen Alysanne, especially after she and Jaehaerys had abolished the First Night Rights.
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