Moon-Fang and Iron-Pumping Superman immediately lit up with joy. Good lord, we were just worrying about how to get in, and the target jumps right out in front of us! What more can we ask for?
Iron-Pumping Superman didn't have the typical villain's habit of monologuing. Without wasting a second, he pulled the flask of Wildfire from the pouch at his waist. With a flick of his other hand, the fire striker sparked.
"Back! Get back!"
The Red Cloak nearest to them saw the green liquid sloshing inside the transparent flask and his pupils constricted in terror. He screamed and scrambled backward, wildly reaching out a hand in a panic, trying to snatch it away.
But the Wildfire flask flew from Iron-Pumping Superman's hand like a Molotov cocktail. It arched through the air, heading straight for King Robert, whose mind was still clouded with rage and confusion.
"Fuck!"
Standing next to the King was his younger brother, Renly Baratheon, the Master of Laws. He stood frozen in place. He recognized the deadly projectile flying toward them, but his feet felt like they were encased in lead. He couldn't move.
"Look out!"
At the critical moment, someone kicked Robert aside. But Renly wasn't so lucky.
"Aaaargh!"
The flask shattered. The ferocious Wildfire engulfed Renly instantly. The magical green flames burned with an intensity no human could endure.
Renly, usually so charming and dashing, writhed in the green inferno, screaming in agony.
"Fuck! No!"
Robert shoved away the man who had saved him—Ser Barristan Selmy, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.
Robert stared blankly, horrified, as his little brother was consumed by the flames.
"Seize them!"
Hand of the King, Eddard Stark, roared, suppressing his fury.
"Shit! He dodged it!" Iron-Pumping Superman cursed under his breath. Seeing the guards swarming them like wolves, he drew his longsword, ready to fight like a trapped beast.
The Red Cloaks, eyes red with rage, encircled them. Under the King's nose, his own brother had been burned alive by assassins using Wildfire. The King already despised the Lannister household guard; after this, they shuddered to think what fate awaited them.
The men standing before them weren't just assassins anymore; they were dead men walking.
"Hit 'em with another one, Iron Bro!"
"Art is an explosion, am I right?!"
The "fam" in Moon-Fang's livestream were loving the show, flooding the chat with gifts, leaving Moon-Fang in a state of painful joy.
Fuck, if only I had another jar, thought Iron-Pumping Superman as he was kicked to the ground.
In moments, their weapons were knocked away, and they were pinned to the floor with swords pressed against their necks.
Should've just killed myself, Moon-Fang thought with regret. Damn, things were going so smoothly I thought I was the Vanguard God reincarnated. Two against dozens? Yeah, I got cocky.
Moon-Fang and Iron-Pumping Superman exchanged a look. They were just about to force-quit the game and leave their characters to be ravaged, but suddenly, Iron-Pumping Superman shot him a look.
Moon-Fang understood. Although confused, he didn't log off. He could turn the pain slider all the way down anyway, so who cares?
"Who sent you?!"
They were quickly dragged before the King. Ser Barristan Selmy stood glued to the King's side, staring vigilantly at the assassins.
Robert looked like an enraged bear. He wanted nothing more than to crush these bastards' skulls with his bare hands.
Eddard Stark walked over and stood by the King, staring coldly at the two assassins.
Littlefinger and the Spider stood far back in the crowd, occasionally showing expressions of lingering fear.
"Long live House Targaryen! Usurper, go to hell!" Moon-Fang didn't forget to put on a show for his viewers, even at a time like this.
"Targaryen!" Robert gritted his teeth so hard they nearly cracked. He hated Targaryens more than anything. The woman he loved most was taken from him forever by a Targaryen bastard. Now, his brother had been burned alive by them using Wildfire.
Seven Hells! Why do the Gods allow such a family and their wretched spawn to exist?!
"Fetch the Wildfire! An eye for an eye!" Robert said, his eyes bloodshot, enunciating every word.
Behind him, Ser Barristan opened his mouth but said nothing, standing rigidly at attention.
Ser Jaime Lannister, Ser Meryn Trant, and the other Kingsguard knights—who had somehow returned to their posts—stood like statues, trying to be invisible.
Wildfire. If a King uses Wildfire against his enemies, how is he any different from the Mad King? Everyone looked at the Hand, Eddard Stark.
Sigh. Eddard let out a long breath and turned to Robert.
But before he could speak, Robert ordered:
"Ned, I know what you want to say. But my brother was burned alive by these two with Wildfire! I will not show mercy! As your King, I command you to fetch the Wildfire!"
My father and brother died by Wildfire too. Eddard's face was bitter as he tried to advise:
"I understand your grief, Your Grace, but..."
The King rudely cut him off:
"I said that is an order! It is a command!"
The King was practically roaring. Heaven knows, Robert wasn't just a roaring bear, but too many terrible things had happened recently.
His own brother burned to death right before his eyes—how could he control his emotions? He was the King, yes, but everyone knew he had never really "learned to be a King."
A few Red Cloaks ran off to obey.
The courtiers were gathered, but despite the crowd, the silence was terrifying.
"Although it may be ill-timed... might I ask, where is Grand Maester Pycelle?"
Varys spoke softly, but in the pin-drop silence, his voice drew everyone's attention.
"Grand Maester Pycelle? He's dead!"
Iron-Pumping Superman, who had been observing quietly, finally spoke. His words shocked everyone present.
"It seems the assassins also murdered Grand Maester Pycelle. Oh, Gods. Let us have a moment of silence for the Grand Maester, who served the realm so diligently all his life."
Varys was visibly shocked for a split second, but he instantly masked it with an expression of deep grief. The transformation was so fast that even Littlefinger glanced at him sideways.
"You killed Grand Maester Pycelle too?!"
The courtiers were stunned. These two assassins were incredibly brazen! And where were the guards? Are the Lannister Red Cloaks completely useless?
Eddard Stark took a deep breath, staring at Iron-Pumping Superman with eyes as cold as the North.
Iron-Pumping Superman didn't even look at the "False Hand." Beside him, Moon-Fang put on a look of tragic heroism, as if daring them to cut off his head. He spat on the ground and shouted:
"Pah! Your family received the grace of the Dragon Kings for generations, yet you help the tyrant abuse his power! You will meet a bad end!"
His expression of loyalty was so convincing that the viewers watching from 360-degree angles in the livestream were calling him an Oscar-winning actor.
Iron-Pumping Superman wasn't idle either. He decided to go out with a bang. He looked straight at Jaime Lannister, who was standing there acting like none of this concerned him, and shouted:
"My Lord! Why do you not strike?! The time is now! Kill the Usurper! His Grace King Viserys will honor the agreement and name you Warden of the South!"