That sword strike wasn't like a slash; it was more like the impact of a battering ram!
It was truly too fierce.
The broad blade, carrying the force of thunder, even let out a teeth-grating whistle!
Facing this terrifying blow, capable of splitting a man in two, Sandor Clegane wisely chose not to meet it head-on.
His relatively "slender" body slid backward and to the side with astonishing agility, his longsword sweeping diagonally upward, precisely deflecting off the side of Gregor's greatsword.
"Clang—!!!"
A deafening clash of metal echoed, sparks flying everywhere.
Sandor felt an irresistible force transmit from the sword, numbing his hand and instantly paralyzing his entire arm.
He was thrown backward by the brute force, stumbling, and cracks appeared in the stone slabs beneath his feet.
Such immense strength!
Missing his first strike, Gregor showed no pause.
His massive body displayed an agility completely at odds with his size.
He stepped forward, his greatsword sweeping horizontally, raising a gust of wind, heading straight for Sandor's waist.
As Sandor regained his footing, the corner of his eye caught the chilling glint of death.
He had no time to think, only able to raise his longsword in front of him, while simultaneously pushing his shield up with all his might.
"Bang—!!!"
Another dull, heart-stopping thud.
The thick, iron-bound wooden shield in Sandor's hand was as fragile as a piece of dry bark before Gregor's greatsword.
The shield was split clean in half!
Broken wood splinters and iron shards flew in all directions.
Sandor himself was swept away by the sword, tumbling several times on the ground before he managed to stop.
He felt as if all his internal organs had been dislocated.
A sweetness in his throat, and a mouthful of fresh blood uncontrollably spewed out.
The entire arena fell silent.
Followed by a thunderous roar of gasps and screams!
Too fast!
Too strong!
From the start of the duel until now, only two short breaths of time had passed!
The Hound, Sandor Clegane.
This warrior, whose name was notorious even in Westeros, was completely crushed by Gregor without even the power to retaliate!
On the high platform, Joffrey's face showed a morbid ecstasy; he excitedly clenched his fists.
Liana frowned.
If she wasn't mistaken, The Hound seemed to be Joffrey's man, right?
Was he really going to cheer for Gregor?
Was that right?
Liana subtly glanced at Joffrey, shaking her head inwardly.
What a fool.
No wonder he was played by Lord Lynn.
Pathetic.
Cersei watched her two retainers fight each other, her proud chest heaving violently.
What kind of situation was this!
Ned Stark's brows were tightly furrowed, his hand unconsciously resting on the hilt of his sword at his waist.
And Sansa, sitting beside him, was already pale with fright, instinctively closing her eyes, daring not to look anymore.
Only Arya stared intently at the figure struggling to get up in the arena, her small fists clenched tightly.
The Hound must not lose.
Once he lost, it meant Lynn lost too!
At the other end of the noble seating, a figure stood out from the tense atmosphere around him.
"Littlefinger"
Petyr Baelish.
He sat calmly in his seat, not even leaning forward.
A faint smile played on his face, and in his grey-green eyes, there was undisguised self-satisfaction and disdain.
His gaze wasn't even fixed on the duel in the arena; instead, it drifted lightly towards Lynn.
His eyes seemed to say:
Do you see?
This is what happens when you challenge me!
In the face of absolute power, all schemes and tricks are a joke!!
He unhurriedly adjusted the silver robin pin on his collar, as if enjoying a play whose ending he already knew, relaxed and at ease.
"Kill him! Kill him!"
In the crowd, people began to shout wildly.
They had bet on Gregor winning, and now they cheered for the brutality of this human beast.
Gregor paid no attention to anyone's reactions.
No one could see the expression on his face, which was obscured by his helmet.
But in the eyes peeking through the visor's slit, there was only cold and bloodthirsty killing intent.
He took heavy strides, walking step by step towards Sandor, who lay on the ground, as if savoring the prey's last struggles before death.
He wanted to torture him slowly!
Just as he had pressed Sandor's face into the brazier when they were children.
He wanted this damned brother to die in endless pain and despair!
Sandor coughed up a mouthful of bloody spit, propped himself up with his sword, and shakily stood.
His left arm was useless, the shattered shield hanging limply from it, and his chest armor was significantly dented.
He looked at his brother, who approached like a mountain, but there was no fear in his grey eyes.
Instead, there was an eerie calm.
Twenty years.
This nightmare-like figure had haunted him for twenty whole years!
Every time he closed his eyes, he could smell his own flesh burning, and he could see Gregor's face twisted with excitement.
Heaven knew how he had endured these years!
He hated him.
He feared him.
But today, he didn't want to be afraid anymore!
Gregor stopped in front of Sandor.
He looked down at his struggling brother, seemingly enjoying this cat-and-mouse game.
"Kneel."
Gregor's voice came from beneath his helmet, muffled as if from a tomb deep within a pit.
"Beg for mercy from me."
"Then, I will give you a quick death."
Sandor grinned, a smile.
On his hideous, scarred half-face, the smile appeared particularly twisted and terrifying.
He spat a mouthful of blood onto the ground.
"Fuck you."
"Beg for mercy from you? You beast, dream on!"
"Roar—!!!"
Gregor was completely enraged!
He let out an earth-shattering roar, raising his greatsword once more, and brought it down directly!
He would smash this suicidal bastard, man and sword, into a pulp!
On the high platform, everyone instinctively held their breath.
King Robert suddenly stood up, seemingly wanting to intervene.
But it was all too late!
Just as everyone thought The Hound was surely dead.
A sudden change occurred!
Facing that deadly blow, Sandor didn't retreat; instead, he stepped forward!
His body twisted at an unusual angle, narrowly dodging the whistling blade.
The greatsword, with immense force, slammed heavily onto the stone slabs behind him.
"Boom!"
A loud crash, and shattered rocks flew!
And Sandor, however, appeared on Gregor's left side!
This was Gregor's blind spot!
Sandor's eyes erupted with an unprecedented gleam!
He had waited for this moment for too long!
From the very first step Gregor charged, he had been calculating, luring him in!
He used his injured body, his feigned weakness, to lure this arrogant beast into using his most powerful yet most flawed move!
Gregor's swordsmanship was broad and sweeping, always advancing.
He never defended.
Because he believed no one could survive his storm-like attacks!
This was his greatest strength, and also his most fatal weakness!
Sandor had studied Gregor for too long!
Today was the day to settle the score!
He had waited for this day for far too long!
Sandor's longsword thrust out with ruthless precision!
The sword tip wasn't aimed at the thick armor.
But at the narrow gap in the armor's joint!
At the popliteal fossa behind Gregor's left knee!
"Thwack!"
The sound of a blade piercing flesh was exceptionally clear in the silent arena.
Sandor's longsword precisely pierced through the thin layer of mail and sank into Gregor's thigh!
"Aow—!!!"
Gregor let out an agonizing roar!
His massive body trembled violently, his left leg gave way, and he uncontrollably dropped to one knee!
This sudden, astonishing reversal left everyone stunned!
Just a second ago, Gregor Clegane, who controlled everything like a god, was... injured?!
On the high platform, Petyr Baelish's triumphant smile instantly froze.
His grey-green eyes, always filled with calculation, for the first time showed an incredulous shock.
He abruptly straightened from his seat, leaning forward, staring intently at Gregor, who was kneeling on one knee in the arena.
As if trying to make him stand up again with his gaze.
How could this be?
How could House Lannister's fiercest mad dog be injured by his useless brother?
This wasn't how the script was written!
In stark contrast to his discomposure was Lynn.
Lynn drained his glass of wine, a satisfied smile on his face.
He knew the real show was just beginning.
The Bio-Gregor was the most terrifying existence.
But even then, Sandor could achieve a one-for-one exchange at his limit.
Sandor's potential was more than what was currently shown, let alone Gregor, who could still feel pain now.
Gregor underestimated Sandor's determination to kill him; he had studied day and night how to kill him.
Here, Sandor, having landed a blow, showed no desire to prolong the fight.
He abruptly pulled out his longsword, drawing a gush of hot blood, and simultaneously retreated rapidly, once again putting distance between himself and Gregor.
On his face, scarred by fire, there was no joy of success.
Only calm!
He knew this wasn't enough.
To kill this monster, merely wounding his leg was far from enough!
"Bastard... you damned bastard..."
Gregor knelt on one knee, slowly turning his head, his eyes, visible through the visor's slit, now bloodshot.
It was the most primal and insane killing intent of a beast thoroughly enraged!
Gregor threw away the heavy greatsword in his hand, propped himself up with both hands, and slowly stood.
His left leg was bleeding, and his steps became somewhat unsteady.
But the aura around him was even more terrifying, more horrifying than before!
He was like a beast wounded by a hunter, completely falling into a frenzy!
"I'm going to... crush your... head!!!"
Gregor roared, abandoning his weapon, and charged at Sandor with bare hands!
His two arms, thicker than a normal man's thighs, were the most formidable weapons!
He would use his own hands to crush this brother who dared to harm him!
Facing his charging, frenzied brother, a trace of solemnity flashed in Sandor's eyes.
But he did not back down.
Sandor gripped his longsword with both hands, his body sinking slightly, adopting a standard dueling stance.
He knew the true fight for life and death was just beginning.
He would use all the hatred accumulated over these twenty years to bring a bloody and complete end to his childhood!
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