Chapter 31 The Hound's Transaction and the Unexpected Visitor
It wasn't hard to find The Hound, Sandor Clegane.
Unlike other knights who enjoyed socializing or frequenting taverns, he spent most of his time in the training grounds of the White Sword Tower, like a lone wolf, maniacally honing his martial skills, except when fulfilling his duties as the prince's bodyguard.
Lin Hao found him one evening.
At the time, Sandor Clegane had just finished a brutal sparring session; he was shirtless, his bronze skin covered in a mix of old and new scars, and sweat dripped down his terrifyingly muscled body.
His face, half-burned by fire, looked especially grotesque and frightening in the afterglow of the setting sun.
"Get lost."
Seeing Lin Hao approach, he didn't even bother to look up, merely emitting a low, beast-like warning from his throat.
The surrounding attendants and guards all feared this unpredictable The Hound like a tiger; no one dared to come within three steps of him.
Lin Hao, however, acted as if he hadn't heard his warning and walked straight up to him.
"I'm not here to cause you trouble, Sandor Clegane," Lin Hao's tone was calm. "I'm here to make a deal with you."
"A deal?" The Hound finally raised his eyes, filled with violence and world-weariness, and sneered contemptuously. "What can you give me? Gold? Women? Or... a ridiculous knightly title?"
"I can give you a chance to personally kill your brother," Lin Hao said, word for word.
These words, like a bolt of lightning, instantly struck the deepest, most sensitive part of The Hound's heart!
He abruptly stood up, his massive, almost giant-like frame exerting immense pressure on Lin Hao.
He grabbed Lin Hao by the collar, lifting him with one hand, his grotesque face filled with murderous intent.
"Say that again?!" His voice sounded like two pieces of sandpaper rubbing together.
Lin Hao hung in mid-air, yet his expression remained unchanged, not even a hint of disturbance in his breathing.
He looked directly into The Hound's bloodshot eyes, red with anger, and calmly said, "The Mountain, Gregor Clegane, will also participate in this tourney. With your strength, you have a fifty percent chance of encountering him in the joust. But merely encountering him isn't enough."
"Because your master, Prince Joffrey, doesn't want to see the farce of you brothers fighting. He prefers you to be a obedient dog, helping him eliminate opponents he dislikes. So, at the critical moment, he will surely stop you."
These words precisely hit The Hound's greatest pain and resentment.
Although he loathed this world, deep down, what he most desired was revenge against the beastly brother who had pushed his face into a brazier during his childhood, creating the nightmare of his life!
"What exactly do you want to say?" The Hound slowly lowered Lin Hao, but the murderous intent in his eyes remained undiminished.
"It's simple," Lin Hao straightened his collar. "I can help you. I can ensure that no one—including Prince Joffrey—can stop you from standing before your brother before the jousting final."
"I can even offer you some... small assistance. For example, a special saddle that will make your horse more stable during a charge. Or perhaps a specially treated, more resilient lance."
A flicker of interest crossed The Hound's eyes.
"What are the conditions?" He wasn't a fool; he knew there was no such thing as a free lunch.
"My conditions are simple." A mysterious smile curved Lin Hao's lips. "I need you to win the joust. Not just win against your brother, but win the final championship."
"Champion?" The Hound was stunned, then let out a rough, wild laugh. "Hahahaha! You want me to win that damn championship? Do you know who my opponents will be? Knight of Flowers? The Kingslayer? Or even that Lightning Lord? Are you mad?"
"I'm not mad." Lin Hao's expression remained calm. "I just ask you, do you dare to gamble?"
"If you win, you'll not only get your revenge with your own hands, but also receive a prize of forty thousand gold dragons, freeing you from the identity of The Hound, allowing you to roam freely under the vast sky and sea."
"If you lose... you'll lose nothing."
These words were filled with a devilish temptation.
The Hound's laughter gradually died down.
He looked at the young man with deep eyes before him, and for the first time, his heart wavered.
Revenge, money, freedom... these words, like heavy hammers, struck his long-numbed heart.
"Good."
After a long pause, he squeezed out a single word through his teeth.
"I'll gamble with you!"
...After concluding his deal with The Hound, Lin Haoreturned to the Tower of the Hand.
However, when he pushed open the door to his room, he found an unexpected person sitting quietly in his room, waiting for him.
She wore a fiery red robe, and her equally crimson long hair, in the dim candlelight, resembled burning flames.
It was Melisandre, the Red Priestess of the lord of light, who had followed the "prophecy" all the way from the North!
"We meet again, Prince That Was Promised."
She slowly raised her head, her red, flame-like eyes staring intently at Lin Hao, a seductive and fervent smile playing on her lips.
"The lord of light awaits your awakening."
Chapter 32 The Red Witch's Prophecy and Alliance
Melisandre's sudden appearance instantly set off alarm bells in Lin Hao's mind.
This woman was one of the most mysterious, dangerous, and uncontrollable factors in the entire Game of Thrones world.
Her magic was real, and her faith in the lord of light was fanatical and obsessive; she would sacrifice anyone without hesitation for her so-called "prophecies."
"How did you get in?" Lin Hao closed the door behind him, his eyes sharpening, while discreetly gripping the Valyrian steel dagger hidden in his sleeve.
"The lord of light guides my path; mortal locks and guards cannot stop a follower of R'hllor," Melisandre's voice carried a peculiar, almost mesmerizing rhythm.
She stood up, her voluptuous and alluring figure appearing even more seductive wrapped in her red robes.
She walked towards Lin Hao step by step, her red eyes, burning with fire, brazenly scrutinized him, as if trying to see through his very soul.
"In the sacred flames, I saw your future, Hodor Snow." She stopped in front of Lin Hao, only half a foot apart, and a warm scent, a mix of cinnamon and some exotic spice, wafted towards him.
"I saw the Dragon King's Blood within you awakening in the flames."
"I saw the black dragon in your arms breaking out of its shell, uttering its first cry."
"I even saw you sitting on that chair made of swords, becoming the sole King of the Seven Kingdoms!"
Her words exploded like thunderbolts in Lin Hao's heart!
This woman… could she really glimpse his greatest secret?!
Was it a coincidence? A trick? Or… did she truly possess the ability to foresee the future?
Lin Hao's face remained impassive, but his heart was already churning with tumultuous waves.
His "Dragon King's Blood" within him, as Melisandreapproached, produced an extremely subtle tremor, a sense of being drawn to its own kind.
This made him realize that the woman before him likely indeed wielded some ancient magic related to "fire" and "blood."
"Lady Priestess, I believe you have mistaken me for someone else." Lin Hao slowly took a step back, widening the dangerous distance between them. "I am just a bastard from the North, not the 'prince that was promised' you speak of."
"No, I have not mistaken you." Melisandre's eyes grew even more fervent. "The revelations of the sacred fire are never wrong. You are the reincarnation of Azor Ahai! The hero destined to end the Long Night and fight against the cold god 'R'hllor'!"
"You may not believe it now, but soon, you will understand your mission. For darkness is gathering, and winter is coming."
Her voice was filled with a sacred and solemn power of persuasion.
Lin Hao fell silent.
Of course, he knew winter was coming, and he knew of the existence of the Others.
But having a mystical witch say it to his face still made him feel an inexplicable pressure.
"What exactly do you want from me?" he asked bluntly.
"I am here to assist you," Melisandre's answer was simple and direct. "The king I serve, Stannis Baratheon, although he also possesses royal blood, the sacred fire tells me he is merely a whetstone for your true awakening. You are the truly destined one."
"I will bring you the faith of the lord of light, and clear the obstacles in your path. All you need to do is accept my help and lead us towards the light."
These words were spoken with genuine sincerity.
But Lin Hao read another meaning in her fervent eyes—control.
She wanted to become an "Imperial Tutor," to spread her religion and fulfill her faith by assisting him.
This was a highly tempting, yet equally dangerous, proposition.
Accepting her help meant he could gain early access to the magical powers of this world, which might solve many problems for him.
But at the same time, it meant he would be deeply bound to the mysterious organization of the "lord of light," and his every move might be constrained by her.
"Why should I believe you?" Lin Hao asked; he needed more leverage to make a judgment.
"For this."
Melisandre slowly opened her palm, and a warm, orange-red flame ignited out of thin air in her palm.
Within the flame, a blurry image flashed by.
Lin Hao's pupils instantly contracted!
In that flame, he clearly saw — "The Mountain" Gregor Clegane, in a jousting tournament, losing control when his mount was startled, and ultimately being knocked off his horse by an inconspicuous black warhorse!
And the owner of that black horse was "The Hound" Sandor Clegane!
She… she could actually foresee the outcome of the tourney?!
"This… is just an illusion." Lin Hao forced himself to calm down, but his lips still refused to admit it.
"Whether it's an illusion, you will know in a few days." Melisandre extinguished the flame, a confident smile on her face. "This is the lord of light's first gift to you. It will earn you your first pot of gold, and it will also win you… your first truly loyal 'knight'."
She had clearly already seen through Lin Hao's deal with The Hound.
Lin Hao fell completely silent.
He knew he had no room left to refuse.
In this world full of unknowns and dangers, refusing the help of a powerful and mysterious "prophet" was an extremely foolish act.
As for future control and counter-control, that was a matter for later.
For now, surviving and growing stronger was the top priority.
"Alright."
After a long pause, he slowly nodded.
"I accept your help. However, we are only partners. I am not an emissary of any god on earth; I fight only for myself."
"As you wish, my Prince."
A triumphant, enchanting smile appeared on Melisandre's face.
She slowly bowed to Lin Hao, her breathtaking curves beneath the red robes faintly visible.
"The lord of light will always protect you."
Chapter 33: The Martial Arts Tournament Opens, a Gathering of Wind and Cloud
The Hand's Tourney officially commenced amidst great anticipation at the newly constructed, massive arena outside King's Landing.
The entire King's Landing was plunged into a festive carnival.
Nobles, knights, wealthy merchants, and sellswords from all over the Seven Kingdoms gathered here.
Banners fluttered in the wind, trumpets blared to the heavens, and the atmosphere was electric.
Robert Baratheon, clad in his magnificent armor that seemed about to burst, sat on the high viewing platform, his face flushed with excitement.
For him, this was the life a king should have—fine wine, delicious food, and the bloody thrill of knightly tourneys.
Queen Cersei and her children, as well as Eddard Starkand his daughters, sat beside the King.
Sansa gazed at the valiant knights below, especially the Knight of Flowers, Loras Tyrell, who seemed like a god descended from the heavens; her beautiful blue eyes were filled with longing and admiration.
Lin Hao, dressed in black leather armor of the Northern style, stood quietly behind Eddard Stark, like the most inconspicuous attendant.
His gaze swept coldly across the entire venue.
He saw Littlefinger, Petyr Baelish, sitting in a noble's seat not far away.
He was smiling and chatting animatedly with the noblewomen beside him, but his grey-green eyes occasionally darted towards the betting stalls, flickering with greedy light.
He also saw that, on the other side, in the House Lannister's section, Tyrion Lannister raised his wine glass and subtly winked at him.
Lin Hao nodded slightly in response.
Their plan was fully in place.
An underground betting house called the 'Black Horse Casino', opened by Tyrion through secret channels, had quietly begun operating in the King's Landingunderworld.
At this betting house, the odds for The Hound, Sandor Clegane, to win the jousting tournament were set at an astonishing fifty to one!
And Tyrion had already wagered the enormous sum of two hundred thousand gold dragons that he had appropriated from the House Lannister's treasury!
This was a massive gamble!
If they won, they would tear a chunk of flesh worth tens of millions of gold dragons from Littlefinger!
If they lost... Tyrion would likely be thrown into Blackwater Bay to feed the fish by his enraged father, Tywin Lannister.
"Now, it's up to our Mr. The Hound to deliver."
Lin Hao's gaze turned to the knight's preparation area below.
Sandor Clegane wore simple, unadorned black armor, his helmet lacking any fancy decorations, featuring only a ferocious hound's head motif.
He did not converse with the other knights, but silently polished the specially treated lance provided by Lin Hao, which he held in his hand.
His eyes were fixed on the figure not far away, standing like an iron tower—his brother, Gregor Clegane, The Mountain.
In his eyes, there was no fear, only an extreme, suppressed flame of hatred about to erupt.
"Very good."
Lin Hao withdrew his gaze, his heart at ease.
At this moment, King Robert, finally impatient, stood up, raised his wine cup, and announced in his booming voice:
"I declare! The Hand's Tourney officially begins!"
"Knights! Let me see your ferocity!"
"For honor! For the prize! Charge!"
With his command, trumpets blared and war drums pounded!
The first jousting match was about to begin.
All eyes were focused on the two long, sand-covered tracks.
A grand drama, intertwined with money, power, honor, and hatred, officially unfolded!
Chapter 34: The Martial Arts Tournament with Frequent Accidents
The jousting tournament was the most anticipated event of the entire competition, and also the one with the largest stakes.
The competition used a single-elimination format, where knights, in pairs, would charge at each other, scoring points by hitting their opponent's shield or body with their lances. A direct win was awarded to anyone who unhorsed their opponent.
The first few rounds of the competition were uneventful.
Powerful and renowned knights, such as Jaime Lannister, the Knight of Flowers Loras Tyrell, and Gregor Clegane, easily defeated their opponents with overwhelming force and advanced to the next round.
The dark horse that Lin Hao and Tyrion had bet on, The Hound Sandor Clegane, also displayed formidable strength matching his fierce reputation.
His charges were powerful and heavy, and his lance skills were precise and ruthless. In almost every match, he unhorsed his opponent with a single, clean strike.
Despite this, he was still not favored by the mainstream bookmakers.
His plain armor and ferocious face simply did not fit people's image of a 'champion knight.'
On Littlefinger's betting board, his odds remained ridiculously high.
Tyrion sat in the noble's stand, his palms sweating with nervousness.
He gulped down cup after cup of wine, his gaze fixed on The Hound and the other favorites to win the championship.
Lin Hao, on the other hand, remained calmly standing behind Eddard, like an outsider spectator.
But his deep eyes were subtly observing every detail on the field.
The real'show' officially began from the quarterfinals.
The first match was between Jaime Lannister and an unnamed knight from The Reach.
Everyone thought it would be a match without suspense.
Jaime Lannister's lance skills were among the best in the Seven Kingdoms.
However, an accident occurred.
Just as the two knights charged and were about to meet, Jaime's pure white steed, for some unknown reason, suddenly let out a painful whinny, its front hooves gave way, and it collapsed straight to the ground!
The entire arena gasped in surprise!
Jaime was caught off guard. Although he desperately tried to regain his balance, the huge inertia from the warhorse's loss of speed still flung him violently away!
"Bang!"
His heavily armored body fell awkwardly onto the sand.
And the unnamed knight opposite him, who hadn't even had time to raise his lance, inexplicably won the match.
"What... what's going on?!" King Robert in the viewing stand stood up in shock.
"A horse stumbled? Sir Jaime has really bad luck." Littlefinger frowned, a hint of undetectable doubt flashing in his eyes.
Only Lin Hao, watching the limping white steed being led away by the stablehand, curved his lips into a barely perceptible smile.
No one knew that just last night, a shadow had quietly snuck into the Kingsguard's stables and, with an almost invisible fine needle soaked in a special herb, gently pricked the steed's hock.
That herb wouldn't take effect immediately, but as soon as the warhorse started running intensely, it would cause the hock to instantly become numb and weak... The second match was between the Knight of Flowers Loras Tyrell and Gregor Clegane.
This was a highly anticipated battle. One was a knightly rising star with elegant technique and graceful demeanor, while the other was a brutal, bloodthirsty giant of immense strength.
Sansa gripped her fists tightly, continuously praying for her Knight of Flowers.
The match began.
Loras Tyrell displayed his exquisite horsemanship. His mount was a mare in heat.
He cleverly used this to have the mare constantly approach and interfere with Gregor Clegane's powerful stallion mount during the charge.
Gregor Clegane's warhorse was indeed affected, becoming agitated and restless, significantly reducing its charging speed and accuracy.
In the first clash, Loras's lance accurately struck Gregor Clegane's chest, while Gregor Clegane's lance missed.
"Good!" The viewing stand erupted in cheers.
Everyone thought the Knight of Flowers would once again display a brilliant feat of skill overcoming brute force.
However, just as the second round of charging was about to begin, another accident occurred.
The enraged Gregor Clegane, at the moment he passed Loras, violated the rules by suddenly reaching out and, with his terrifying immense strength, violently shoved Loras's mount!
The mare instantly lost its balance, whinnying as it fell to one side!
The Knight of Flowers was also thrown to the ground by this sudden immense force, his magnificent armor covered in dust.
"Foul! This is a shameful foul!" An angry protest immediately erupted from House Tyrell's seats.
But Gregor Clegane acted as if he hadn't heard. He dismounted, drew his greatsword that required two hands to wield, and walked directly towards Loras, who had not yet risen!
His huge shadow loomed over the young knight.
"I'll kill you!" Gregor Clegane's roar was like that of a beast.
It seemed like a life was about to be taken!
Suddenly, a black figure, like a whirlwind, rushed into the arena from the other side!
It was The Hound Sandor Clegane!
He drew his longsword and fearlessly confronted his brother!
"Clang—!!!"
The two greatswords clashed violently, producing a deafening roar and dazzling sparks!
"Enough!"
King Robert's furious roar finally brought the chaos on the field to a halt.
Ultimately, the match ended with Gregor Clegane being disqualified for a serious foul, but the Knight of Flowerswas also unable to continue the competition due to his fall injuries.
Another favorite to win the championship was eliminated in a way no one had expected.
Littlefinger's expression had already turned somewhat grim.
He vaguely felt that an invisible hand was manipulating everything from behind the scenes.
And now, the final list for the jousting tournament was officially released.
On one side was The Hound, Sandor Clegane, who had defeated strong opponents and was full of momentum.
And on the other side was an unnamed knight from The Reach, who had made it to the finals through good luck and his opponents' 'accidents'!
The entire King's Landing was abuzz with excitement!
Everyone knew that the champion was already a foregone conclusion!
Countless gamblers began to flock frantically to Littlefinger's betting board, placing their last bets on The Hound!
Chapter 35: The Hound Wins, Littlefinger's Defeat
The final, without suspense.
The nameless knight from the Riverlands, facing The Hound's earth-shattering charge, was unhorsed with his lance almost immediately upon impact, falling dazed and disoriented.
The Hound, Sandor Clegane, won.
He won the championship of the Tourney of the Hand's jousting competition, and also the huge prize money of forty thousand gold dragons.
As he removed the fearsome Hound helmet, revealing his burned, ugly face, standing alone in the center of the arena, accepting the thunderous cheers from the entire crowd, his eyes, usually filled with violence and world-weariness, for the first time, showed a complex and bewildered emotion.
He won.
But he felt as if he had lost something more important.
He subconsciously raised his head, his gaze sweeping over the fervent crowd, towards the Tower of the Hand... On the viewing stand, Littlefinger Petyr Baelish's face was so dark it could wring water.
He lost.
He lost completely.
The unexpected elimination of Jaime Lannister and Loras Tyrell caused ninety percent of the bets placed on them to win to go down the drain.
And the undisputed outcome of the final led almost all gamblers to place their bets on The Hound.
In and out, he not only failed to make a fortune from this gamble but also lost at least hundreds of thousands of gold dragons, almost wiping out the illicit wealth he had accumulated over the past few years!
"Damn it! Who is behind this?!"
He clenched his fists tightly, his fingernails digging deep into his flesh.
Not far from him, Tyrion Lannister was holding a wine glass, looking at him with a "regretful" expression, but his eyes gleamed with schadenfreude and triumph.
He swirled his wine glass, raising it in a distant toast to Littlefinger, a mocking smile on his lips.
Littlefinger looked at his smug expression and instantly understood something.
"It was you!" He practically squeezed these two words through gritted teeth.
Tyrion shrugged, noncommittal.
He put down his wine glass, slowly stood up, walked over to Littlefinger, and said softly in a voice only the two of them could hear:
"Lord Baelish, there's an old saying, 'He who walks by the river often, cannot avoid wet shoes.' You, this big fish who likes to fish in troubled waters, this time, I'm afraid you've run into a real fisherman."
"And one more thing," Tyrion's smile grew even more malicious, "I heard there's an illegal bookie in the city called 'Black Horse Casino,' and the odds for The Houndto win were fifty to one. And I, unfortunately, bet two hundred thousand."
Fifty to one!
Two hundred thousand!
"Pfft—"
Littlefinger felt a sweetness in his throat, and a mouthful of old blood almost gushed out on the spot!
Ten million gold dragons!!!
This damned dwarf actually carved a piece of fat worth ten million gold dragons from him?!
He watched Tyrion's departing, short figure, and for the first time, his grey-green eyes revealed unconcealed, venomous resentment and murderous intent, like a viper!
...Inside the Tower of the Hand.
Lin Hao gently placed a large draft, issued by the Iron Bank, in front of Eddard Stark.
"My Lord, this is a little 'extra income' we earned from this tourney."
Eddard Stark's eyes widened as he looked at the long string of zeros on the draft.
He had never seen so much money in his life!
"Hodor... This... this..." He was so shocked he couldn't complete his sentences.
"With this money," Lin Hao's expression remained calm, "we can recruit soldiers and horses, and build a force that truly belongs to us. We can also use it to win people's hearts and establish our own intelligence network in King's Landing."
"Most importantly," Lin Hao's eyes gleamed with an unprecedented light, "we finally have enough capital to truly contend with those powerful figures."
Eddard Stark looked at the young man before him, with his deep eyes and endless stratagems, and his heart was filled with mixed emotions.
He knew that from today onwards, the fate of House Stark in King's Landing would no longer be passively at the mercy of others.
They finally had the power to fight back.
And all of this was brought to him by this illegitimate nephew, whom he had once not thought highly of.
Chapter 36: The Mountain's Death and the Hound's Fate
The revelry of the tourney was cast under a bloody shadow by a sudden, unexpected death.
Gregor Clegane, "The Mountain", who had fouled and lost in the jousting competition, was found dead in his tent that night.
His death was horrific; his entire skull seemed to have been crushed by some immense force, exploding outwards, with brain matter and bone fragments splattered everywhere.
This terrifying manner of death immediately caused an uproar in King's Landing.
Everyone subconsciously assumed it was the work of "The Mountain's" arch-enemy, Prince Oberyn Martell, "The Red Viper" from Dorne.
Because only Dornishmen were known for their skill with poisons and their cruel methods of revenge.
Even King Robert, in a meeting of the Small Council, furiously roared that he would send men to Sunspear to demand justice.
For a time, the already fragile relationship between the Kingdom and Dorne became tense once more.
However, only a select few knew that the truth was not so simple.
Inside the Tower of the Hand, Lin Hao frowned slightly as he looked at a coroner's report sent by Varys through a secret channel.
"'Skull Exploder'... a rare and potent poison from Lys. The victim does not die immediately after ingesting the poison. But as soon as their emotions fluctuate violently, such as in a fit of rage, and their blood flow accelerates, the poison instantly takes effect, destroying the skull's structure from within, causing such a gruesome sight."
Tyrion sat nearby, his expression also solemn: "My father has always wanted to win over House Clegane. Now that 'The Mountain' is dead, the Westerlands have lost another strong card. Who did it, exactly?"
"Who else could it be?" Lin Hao placed the report over a candle flame, burning it to ashes, "Someone who wishes to see House Lannister's strength diminished, and is also pleased to see the relationship between the Kingdom and Dorne rupture."
"Littlefinger." Tyrion understood instantly.
"Precisely." Lin Hao nodded, "He lost so badly at the tourney, he was bound to seek revenge. 'The Mountain' was merely a pawn he threw out to stir up the situation and divert attention."
"That madman!" Tyrion couldn't help but curse, "He's playing with fire! If the Kingdom and Dorne truly go to war, the consequences will be unimaginable!"
"He doesn't care." Lin Hao's eyes were cold, "For someone who wants to overturn the entire chessboard, the more pawns that die, and the more chaotic the situation becomes, the more it benefits him."
"We must stop him."
"How do we stop him?" Lin Hao countered, "We have no evidence. Everyone now believes it was the Dornishmen. If we come out and say it was Littlefinger, we'll just be seen as madmen."
Tyrion once again felt that deep sense of powerlessness.
Facing an opponent like Littlefinger, who constantly released venomous snakes from the shadows, they were always on the defensive.
"So we... do nothing?"
"No." Lin Hao shook his head, "We will do something else."
He stood up and walked to the window, looking towards the distant White Sword Tower.
"Go and collect... the most important 'prize' we won in this gamble, besides the money."
...That night, Sandor Clegane received a package in his room.
Inside the package were two things.
One was a draft issued by the Iron Bank for forty thousand gold dragons—his champion's prize money.
The other was a bloody, half-burnt, enormous head!
The head of Gregor Clegane, "The Mountain"!
Sandor Clegane looked at the head that had haunted his nightmares for half his life, then at the draft in his hand, enough to ensure a comfortable life for the rest of his days. On his ugly face, for the first time, an emotion called "release" appeared, beyond just brutality and hatred.
He knew that the black-haired young man had kept his promise.
He had helped him get his revenge, and given him his freedom.
Just then, the door was gently pushed open.
Lin Hao walked in.
"How do you feel?" he asked calmly.
...Sandor Clegane said nothing, only silently tossed the head into the flames of the fireplace.
The roaring fire consumed all the nightmares of his childhood.
"Prince Joffrey has already ordered me to return to Casterly Rock tomorrow to report to Lord Tywin Lannister," Sandor Clegane finally said in his hoarse voice after a long silence.
"So what do you plan to do?" Lin Hao asked.
"I don't know." Sandor Clegane looked at the flames in the fireplace, his eyes filled with confusion, "I've been a dog for half my life, and now... suddenly, no one is holding my leash. I don't know where to go."
"Then follow me." Lin Hao extended his hand to him, "I won't put a leash on you; I'll only give you a sharper sword."
"I don't need you as my guard; I need you as my 'knight'. To assemble a team that belongs only to us, unconstrained by any rules, born only for slaughter."
"I'll give you money, I'll give you equipment, I'll give you a chance to stop being a 'dog'."
Sandor Clegane looked up at the young man's deep and sincere black eyes.
He saw no disdain, no fear in those eyes, only equal respect.
"Thump."
The Hound, who had never shown the slightest fear on the battlefield and had struck terror into countless enemies, at this moment, knelt on one knee.
He bowed his proud yet self-conscious head and, in a solemn tone he had never used before, swore:
"My sword, from today, fights for you."
Ding! Key character Sandor Clegane pledges loyalty to you!
New function unlocked: Knight Retainer System
Your prestige and influence have greatly increased!
Lin Hao smiled and helped him up.
He knew that he finally had his first, and most reliable, dark knight in this perilous city.
Chapter 37: Eddard Stark's Investigation and the King's Hunt
The uproar of the tourney and the turmoil of the Mountain's death were forcibly suppressed by the command of Robert Baratheon.
The corpulent King was utterly weary and annoyed by the endless schemes and infighting within the court.
He announced a grand royal hunt to relax in the forest.
All the nobles in the Red Keep eagerly responded.
However, Eddard Stark declined the King's invitation.
It wasn't that he didn't want to mend his relationship with Robert, but rather because his investigation into the death of the former Hand, Jon Arryn, had finally yielded a breakthrough.
Under Lin Hao's subtle reminders and guidance, Eddard Stark shifted the focus of his investigation from complex political conspiracies to the most inconspicuous and easily overlooked detail—bloodlines.
He found a thick book, "The Lineages of the Kings," which Jon Arryn had been reading before his death, containing the genealogies of all noble houses in the Seven Kingdoms.
In this book, he discovered a startling and subversive pattern!
The bloodline of House Baratheon, no matter which house it intermarried with—be it House Tully, House Targaryen, or any other minor house—their descendants, without exception, inherited the distinctive, night-dark hair characteristic of House Baratheon!
The blood of Storm's End was strong and unyielding!
"Black hair... black hair... all black hair..."
In the study of the Tower of the Hand, Eddard Starkmurmured to himself, his eyes fixed on the lines of text.
Then, he thought of King Robert's three golden-haired, blue-eyed children—Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen.
Their hair was the brilliant golden color characteristic of House Lannister.
A terrifying thought, one that could overturn the entire kingdom, like a bolt of lightning, cut through all the mists in his mind!
"He... they are not the King's children!"
Eddard Stark trembled violently, the book in his hand falling to the floor with a thud.
He finally understood!
He understood why Jon Arryn had suddenly died!
He understood why House Lannister had so painstakingly tried to eliminate everyone who knew this secret!
This was the most sinister secret, one that could bring House Lannister to ruin and plunge the entire Seven Kingdoms into war!
"I must... I must tell Robert immediately!"
Eddard Stark's face was ashen, and he instinctively wanted to rush out of the study to catch up with the King, who had already departed for the hunt.
"My Lord! Please calm down!"
A steady voice stopped him just in time.
Lin Hao had appeared at the doorway at some point.
Seeing Eddard's panicked expression, he knew that he had discovered the secret.
"Hodor?" Eddard looked at him, as if grasping at a last straw, "You... you know too?"
"I have always known," Lin Hao replied calmly.
"Then why didn't you tell me sooner?!" Eddard's voice held a trace of reproach.
"Because, without absolute certainty, knowing this secret would not be an advantage for you, but a death warrant," Lin Hao's eyes were cold, "Jon Arryn is a prime example."
Eddard Stark instantly calmed down.
He looked at the young man before him, whose eyes were terrifyingly deep, and a cold sweat broke out on his back.
He realized that his impulsiveness just now could very likely lead to his demise.
"Then... what should I do?" he asked, somewhat at a loss.
"Do nothing," Lin Hao's answer surprised him, "At least, until the King returns from the hunt, you can do nothing."
"Why?!"
"Because the time is not yet right," Lin Hao slowly shook his head, "If you go to the King now, even if he believes you, with his volatile temper, he would only draw his sword on the spot and rush to confront Cersei and Jaime. What would be the consequence of that? House Lannister would immediately rebel! By then, the entire King's Landing would turn into a sea of blood!"
"And we, in King's Landing, simply do not have enough strength to contend with the entire army of House Lannister."
These words, like a bucket of cold water, extinguished the last trace of impulsiveness in Eddard Stark's heart.
He sank back into his chair, feeling as if he bore a heavy secret that could crush the entire world.
"So we just watch?"
"No," a cold glint flashed in Lin Hao's eyes, "We are waiting. Waiting for the best moment."
"And waiting for the most important person to return."
The "most important person" he referred to was, of course, Stannis Baratheon, far away on Dragonstone, who also possessed a legitimate claim to the Baratheonsuccession.
Only when Stannis returned to King's Landing with his fleet would they have enough confidence to play this final card against House Lannister.
And before that, there was only one thing they could do.
That was—wait.
Wait for the King to return from the hunt.
Wait for the inevitable accident that would change everyone's destiny.
Chapter 38: Lancel's Wine and the King's End
The King's hunting party, in the royal Kingswood, lasted a full five days.
During these five days, King's Landing appeared calm on the surface, but beneath, it was a turbulent sea.
Eddard Stark, following Lin Hao's advice, kept that earth-shattering secret deeply buried in his heart.
Every day, he continued to handle official documents and meet with ministers, as if nothing had happened.
But only he knew that every moment, he lived in immense torment.
Lin Hao, meanwhile, used this rare period of calm to frantically expand his influence.
He used the huge sum of money won from the tourney to purchase a large quantity of excellent weapons and armor from the Essos continent through Tyrion's secret channels.
At the same time, he instructed Sandor Clegane, The Hound, who had sworn allegiance to him, to secretly select and form a private army that would only obey him, under the guise of recruiting a "Harbor Affairs CommitteeGuard" from among the mercenaries and retired soldiers in King's Landing.
Sandor Clegane showed great enthusiasm and talent for this task.
His fearsome reputation and the prestige he gained at the tourney quickly allowed him to gather a group of desperadoes.
Lin Hao also provided him with salaries far exceeding market prices and the best equipment. Under the dual influence of money and prestige, a "Night Fury Squad," though not large in scale but extremely fierce in combat, quietly took shape in the shadows.
They were Lin Hao's first truly armed force.
Just as Lin Hao's power was snowballing and growing in secret, another conspiracy was quietly unfolding in the royal Kingswood...
On the last day of the hunt, Robert Baratheon was in excellent spirits.
He personally hunted and killed a huge wild boar, which greatly satisfied his warrior's heart.
In the evening, at the temporary hunting camp, he gathered all the accompanying nobles and knights for a grand bonfire feast.
Robert drank wine and ate roasted meat without restraint, singing loudly, as if he had returned to his invincible youth.
However, he did not notice the hint of tension and malice that flashed in the eyes of the young attendant, Lancel Lannister, who was pouring him wine.
Lancel was Queen Cersei's cousin and one of the King's personal attendants.
Under Cersei's instruction and coercion, his task tonight was to get the King drunk.
And not just ordinarily drunk.
He had prepared for the King a triple-strength, potent Dornish wine!
This wine had a powerful kick, enough to make an ox fall to the ground drunk.
"Your Majesty, you truly are the bravest warrior in the Seven Kingdoms!" Lancel said, pouring Robert a large glass of deep red strong wine with a fawning expression. "For your glory, please drink this cup!"
"Hahahahaha! Well said!"
Robert was already disoriented from drinking. He took the wine glass and, without even looking, drained it in one gulp.
The spicy liquid, like fire, burned his throat and stomach.
But instead of feeling uncomfortable, he felt incredibly refreshed!
"Again! Fill everyone's cups!" he roared.
One cup, then another.
Under Lancel's deliberate "encouragement to drink," Robert quickly became completely drunk, unable to even stand steadily.
"Your Majesty... it's getting late, you should rest." Renly Baratheon looked at his brother's state and stepped forward, advising him with some concern.
"Get out!" Robert pushed him away, roaring drunkenly, "I... I haven't had enough! I... I still want to hunt! I want to hunt that... legendary white stag!"
He said, disregarding everyone's attempts to stop him, and shakily grabbed his spear and horn, about to rush out of the camp.
"Your Majesty, it's too dangerous! There are wild beasts in the forest at night!" The captain of the Kingsguard, Ser Barristan Selmy the Bold, immediately stepped forward to block him.
"All of you, get out of my way!" Robert's drunkenness had fully taken hold. He was like an enraged bull, listening to no one. "Whoever dares to stop me is a traitor!"
Finally, under the King's roar, no one dared to stop him anymore.
Everyone could only watch as their great King, alone, reeking of alcohol, staggered and disappeared into the dark, perilous forest.
Lancel Lannister watched the King's disappearing back, a triumphant, cold smile flashing in his eyes.
He knew his mission was accomplished.
A King too drunk to walk steadily, alone entering a dark forest infested with wild beasts... the consequences were self-evident.
Cersei Lannister's poisonous scheme had succeeded.
The King's end was tonight.
Chapter 39 The King's Death and Last Will
At dawn, a piercing horn call shattered the tranquility of the Kingswood.
Robert Baratheon was found lying in a pool of blood.
His corpulent body had been disemboweled by an enraged wild boar, its tusks tearing him open.
Intestines and organs spilled onto the ground, a gruesome sight.
Although the accompanying maester made every effort to save him, everyone knew that the King was beyond help.
The news reached King's Landing with the utmost speed.
The entire Red Keep was instantly enveloped in a somber and eerie atmosphere.
When Eddard Stark and Lin Hao arrived at the King's bedchamber, Robert Baratheon lay on the bed, his life flickering like a candle in the wind, threatening to extinguish at any moment.
His face, usually full of boisterousness and rage, now only showed pain and regret.
"Eddard..."
Seeing Eddard, the last flicker of light appeared in Robert's clouded eyes.
He painstakingly reached out and grasped the hand of his best brother.
"I... I truly was a... foolish King, Eddard," his voice was hoarse and weak.
"Don't speak, Robert," Eddard's eyes were tearful, his voice choked with emotion.
Despite their past arguments and suspicions, at this moment, seeing his brother, who had fought alongside him and personally conquered the entire realm, on the verge of death, Eddard's heart was filled with endless sorrow.
"Listen to me, Eddard..." Robert's breathing became increasingly shallow, "After I... after I die, you will be... Regent, the protector of the realm... until... until my son Joffrey... comes of age..."
As he spoke, he gestured to the Grand Maester nearby to bring the will that had already been drafted.
"Write... write down... 'my eldest son Joffrey'... change it to... 'my lawful heir'..."
In his final moments, Robert seemed to gain a sliver of clarity.
Perhaps he suspected something, or perhaps he simply mistrusted Joffrey; he used his last ounce of strength to try and leave one final safeguard for the Seven Kingdoms.
Eddard Stark's heart trembled at these words.
He knew the weight of Robert's statement!
"My lawful heir" meant that, until Joffrey came of age, who the heir would be would be decided by him, the Regent!
This undoubtedly gave him immense room to maneuver!
However, this upright Warden of the North made a decision that almost made Lin Hao want to vomit on the spot.
He did not modify it according to Robert's dictation, but instead wrote "my eldest son Joffrey" on the parchment.
He did not want to use such wordplay to deceive his brother on his deathbed.
His damned sense of honor, ingrained in his bones, triumphed over reason at this moment.
Robert did not notice this detail; he no longer had the strength to see.
He merely gripped Eddard's hand tightly, using his last bit of strength to plead, "Eddard... for... for the sake of our brotherhood... help me... help me take care of my children... don't let them... come to harm..."
"I promise you, Robert," Eddard nodded tearfully, "I swear by the Old Gods and the New."
After receiving this promise, a smile of relief finally appeared on Robert's face.
He slowly released his grip, his head tilted, and he completely lost his breath.
The ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, the fury of Storm's End, the hero of Robert's Rebellion—Robert Baratheon, was dead.
Eddard Stark knelt by the bed, weeping uncontrollably.
Lin Hao, standing behind him, felt only a chilling cold throughout his body.
He looked at Eddard's sorrowful back, with only one thought in his mind:
"It's over."
Eddard Stark had forgone the last, and best, opportunity to lawfully and justifiably strip Joffrey of his inheritance.
With his own honor, he personally pushed himself, and the entire House Stark, into an abyss of no return.
Outside the window, the sky gradually brightened.
But Lin Hao knew that the long night in King's Landinghad only just begun.
The game of thrones had entered its bloodiest, most brutal endgame.
Chapter 40: Showdown! Confrontation with Cersei
The bells tolling the king's death rang heavily over King's Landing.
The entire city was plunged into an eerie silence, like the calm before a storm.
After his initial grief, Eddard Stark quickly regained his composure as hand of the king and Regent.
He knew this was no time for sorrow.
A transfer of power, one that would decide the kingdom's future, was imminent.
The first thing he did was convene the Small Council, publicly read King Robert's will, and formally announce that he would serve as Regent, protecting the realm until Joffrey came of age.
With the king's body still fresh, no one dared openly oppose the will.
Cersei Lannister, though her face was grim, could only grit her teeth and temporarily acknowledge Eddard's regency.
The second thing Eddard did was immediately send a secret letter to Stannis Baratheon, far away on Dragonstone, informing him of the king's death and "requesting" him to return to King's Landing as soon as possible to "assist" him in handling state affairs.
He was seeking the strongest external aid for the impending confrontation.
However, both of these actions were too "open and above board."
In Lin Hao's view, Eddard Stark was still playing an "assassin's" game with a "knight's" mindset, which was tantamount to seeking his own death.
"My Lord, you have made a fatal mistake."
Inside the Tower of the Hand, Lin Hao looked at Eddard, who was drafting orders, his expression more solemn than ever.
"You should not have announced the will publicly, and even less should you have merely 'requested' Stannis to return. What you should have done is immediately seal off King's Landing, and in the king's name, take control of Cersei and her three children! Then, send your most trusted person, with your Hand's seal, to Dragonstone, and directly 'order' Stannis, as the elder of House Baratheon, to return and take charge of the situation!"
"Before reinforcements arrive, we must not break ties with House Lannister! What we need to do now is buy time!"
These words made Eddard frown deeply.
"Hodor, your ideas are too... too dark." He shook his head and said stubbornly, "Cersei is the queen, and Joffrey is the prince. I cannot imprison them without concrete evidence. This would be against honor."
"Honor?!" For the first time, Lin Hao felt a deep disappointment and powerlessness towards his uncle. "My Lord, when your enemies are using poison and schemes against you, are you still talking about a knight's honor with them? When House Lannister's army is at the city gates, will your honor be able to stop their slaughter?!"
"Enough!" Eddard Stark seemed stung, he slammed his hand on the table and exclaimed, "My mind is made up! I will give Joffrey a chance before he officially ascends the throne. I will tell Cersei the truth and persuade her to leave King's Landing gracefully with her children. This is the last mercy I can offer them!"
Lin Hao looked at Eddard's face, which was full of "naivety" and "stubbornness," and fell completely silent.
He knew that he could no longer change the mind of the Warden of the North.
His damned sense of honor was deeply ingrained, beyond remedy.
"Very well, My Lord." After a long pause, Lin Hao slowly nodded, "Since you have made your decision, then please allow me to make some... necessary arrangements before you go to see the queen."
...That afternoon, Eddard Stark went alone to the Godswood in the Red Keep.
He had arranged to meet Cersei Lannister there.
He wanted to have the final confrontation with the queen in this tranquil land, which symbolized the faith of the Old Gods of the North.
Cersei arrived as promised.
She was wearing a black mourning dress, but her golden hair still shone brightly in the sun.
There was no trace of sadness on her face, only a suppressed, about-to-erupt lust for power.
"Lord Stark, why have you called me here?" Her voice was as cold as ice.
"Cersei," Eddard looked at her, his expression complex, "Robert is dead. But I know his death was no accident."
Cersei's pupils contracted slightly.
"I also know that Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen are not Robert's children," Eddard continued, his voice not loud, but like a thunderclap, "They are the abominations born of your incest with your brother, Jaime Lannister!"
These words, like the sharpest knife, completely tore off Cersei's last shred of pretense!
Her face instantly turned pale!
But then, that paleness was replaced by a wild, hysterical rage!
"So what?!" She no longer pretended, her beautiful face twisted by jealousy and resentment, "While I was carrying his children, he was out there having bastards with other women! I bore him golden-haired princes, but he only thought of his dead, black-haired Lyanna Stark!"
"Do you think I wanted this?! He forced me!"
Eddard Stark was startled by her frenzied appearance and took a step back.
He took a deep breath, forced himself to calm down, and said, "I am not here today to judge you. I am here to give you a chance."
"In my name as Regent, I command you to take your children and leave King's Landing immediately, fleeing as far as possible. Never return."
"For Robert's sake, for the sake of your time as husband and wife, this is the last mercy I can give you..."
However, after hearing these words, Cersei suddenly burst into laughter.
She laughed so hard her body shook, and tears streamed down her face.
She looked at Eddard Stark with eyes that seemed to be looking at the most foolish and ridiculous imbecile in the world.
"Mercy?" She wiped the tears from her eyes, her smile becoming incredibly scornful and cruel, "Lord Stark, you truly are a... noble yet foolish imbecile."
"Do you think you've won?"
She slowly approached Eddard, and in a tone full of pity, she whispered:
"In the game of thrones, you either win or you die. There is no middle ground."
"And you, from the moment you stepped into King's Landing, were already a dead man."