Blood stained the ground. The warhammer in Gendry's hand was covered in blood, and the air was filled with blood and wails. Black scale armor, a spiked warhammer, an oak shield; Gendry's clear blue eyes were full of fire.
"Run!" Purple Beard saw Rust collapse to the ground, the Meereenese pit fighter now a corpse, utterly terrified. Rust was the Bandit Mercenaries' reliance, brutal and powerful, yet he died so ignominiously.
The Bandit Mercenaries abandoned their companions' bodies and scattered, leaving only the scent of blood lingering in the air. Purple Beard barely escaped with his life, thanks to his subordinates' desperate efforts to cover him.
Purple Beard looked back and saw the fierce warrior who had hammered the Meereenese man to death. He stood beside the Meereenese man's corpse, like a harbinger of storms, a God of Slaughter.
"Where did the Wolf Pack find such a formidable fighter?" Purple Beard wondered. He knew this battle was a devastating loss and that he needed more, stronger fighters.
"Strip anything useful from these Bandit Mercenaries: weapons, armor, supplies, and money! Don't waste any horses that aren't dead. Afterward, burn all these bodies!" The Wolf Pack companions began clearing the battlefield, pulling their comrades' bodies from the piles of dead. Of the ten knights, three had died. The Bandit Mercenaries under Purple Beard had suffered several times that number of casualties.
Gendry approached Morningstar. Only then did he feel a slight ache in his elbow. Swinging a warhammer required both strength and skill, and the Meereenese man had been fierce. The pit fighter's strike into the Instructor's armpit had been fatal. Plate armor was not infallible; vulnerable points at the joints still presented a possibility of penetration.
Gendry looked at Morningstar's pale face. Longspear and The Handsome Man came to his side.
"Morningstar is dead, Child!" Longspear patted Gendry's shoulder. "You did well. Those who avenge their companions are fortunate."
"I killed the enemy, but I couldn't save him!" Gendry mused. Farewells were always cruel.
Longspear thought for a moment, then said nothing. Although Gendry was like a rampaging giant on the battlefield, he was, after all, still a Boy.
"Look at him again. New battles await us!" The Handsome Man looked at Gendry. "For a novice, you are the most outstanding I've ever seen, but we all have to pass this threshold."
Gendry and his other companions waited for the slaves from the manor to appear. First, they loaded their comrades' bodies onto carts, then began to count the Bandit Mercenaries' corpses. Maester Qyburn also emerged from the manor to tend to the Mercenaries who had suffered minor injuries or falls.
The Handsome Man left Gendry and continued to move around the battlefield, stripping armor and collecting gold coins. However, there were no written items, making it difficult to determine the origin of these Bandit Knights.
"The hammer is still brutal!" The Handsome Man said, looking at the Meereenese man's corpse, prying open the pit fighter's chainmail as he praised. Gendry's powerful hammer blow had directly crushed the Meereenese man's heart, leaving a concave indentation in his chest, and his bones were shattered. As a blunt weapon, a hammer's impact surface could be concentrated into a single point, delivering immense power and ferocity.
"But we've stirred up trouble!" The Handsome Man analyzed the Meereenese man's appearance: Rust-colored hair, a tall and agile physique. Meereenese pit fighters were valuable; where did the Bandit Mercenaries get the gold to hire him?
"A skilled Meereenese fighter is worth a thousand gold. It seems that whoever opposes the Archon must also be a prominent figure among the Myrish!" Longspear mused. "Tell the steward about this and send a message back to Myr!"
"Yes, fortunately, we were lucky! War Hammer Jen dealt with him!" The Handsome Man said. "Unique weapons like the arakh are still difficult to deal with."
"But who would attack the manor?" The Handsome Man wondered. "Too many people could be responsible. gunpowder herb merchants, other manor lords, or simply opponents of the Archon. But I think the cost of hiring Bandit Mercenaries and Meereenese is staggering. It simply means they have enough profit to gain for them to do this."
"Forget it! Haul all these bodies to the manor and have the steward send the message!"
"This man's physique is good!" Qyburn said softly, looking at Rust's corpse. "But it would be even better if he were taller and stronger!"
"Now is not a good opportunity!" Gendry replied. Qyburn was still thinking about an "invincible warrior."
As piles of corpses were laid out in Firegrass Manor, the atmosphere in the manor became very tense.
"Thirteen Bandit Mercenaries, and we lost three brothers! As for the escaped slaves, they haven't been counted yet."
"In the past, there have been thefts or robberies of gunpowder herb, but never on this scale!" The manor steward's face was pale as he looked at the bodies before him.
"Send this message to the Archon! If they are truly enemies of the Archon, in Myr and the Disputed Lands, they will act simultaneously."
...The commotion at Firegrass Manor had not yet subsided. Gendry returned to his room.
Gendry removed his black scale armor. In Westeros, this was usually the task of Attendants.
"You are very fortunate, Your Highness! You are unharmed." Qyburn said. "Minor injuries are insignificant; the greatest fear is large and deep wounds. Once infected, they can be fatal."
"Have I ever been a noble in such a sorry state?" Gendry chuckled. He was still a big Mercenary, charging through battlefields with courage and strength.
"A hero awaits the storm. Back then, Orys was merely a bastard from Dragonstone, and it was by following The Conqueror that House Baratheon became the youngest of the Great Houses of the Seven Kingdoms. The Seven Gods have bestowed upon you courage, strength, and noble blood; you should seize the opportunity!"
"Chaos may be coming!" Maester Qyburn continued to analyze. "Meereenese gladiators are generally unaffordable for ordinary people. The only possibility is wealthy merchants or Archons who can contend with the manor lord. Our current employer is now on the verge of danger."
"I didn't expect the Meereenese to appear either!" Gendry recalled. "They want to bring down the Archon!"
"According to my understanding, the Wolf Pack Company has always served this Archon because a daughter of one of the Wolf Pack Company's captains married into the Archon's family. In reality, the Wolf Pack Company is already tied to the Myrish; they rise and fall together. If the manor's owner is in danger, then we are also in danger!" Qyburn pointed to himself and Gendry.
"Chaos brings slaughter. The power struggles among the Myrish are no less fierce than in Westeros!"
"No! They are even more terrifying than Westeros.
During the Myrish Blood War, two opposing factions, vying for control of the city, erupted into a series of assassinations, riots, poisonings, rapes, hangings, tortures, and naval battles. The losing side was exiled from the city. After the Lysene Spring, Archon Torero, during a feast celebrating his election as First Archon, was poisoned along with his wife, mistress, daughters, siblings, and supporters." Maester Qyburn also had a corresponding understanding of the history of the Three Daughters.
"But chaos is not necessarily without opportunity! The Ninepenny Kings once occupied the Disputed Lands, the Stepstones, and Tyrosh. The situation is not immutable. If chaos breaks out in Myr, perhaps it will be an opportunity."
"Were you just trying to modify that Meereenese corpse?" Gendry asked.
Qyburn showed an awkward expression, then nodded. "The dead are sometimes more fearless than the living."
"That's very dangerous. You'll have to do it quietly! Wait until next time!"