—
Sandor Clegane, the scar-faced armored bulk, blocked the mouth of the alley with a scowl as deep as a ravine. “I doubt I drank that much to start seeing things.”
I took a cautious step forward, my sword gripped tight. The chaos of King’s Landing’s riot hissed and shrieked just beyond the cramped walls, but here in the alley, a hush dominated. The Hound did not look scared before a ghost. “Your eyes are fine,” I said.
Behind , I caught Sansa on the edge of my vision. She was pressing herself against the damp stone, clinging to the blanket I’d given her, eyes darting back and forth between the Hound and . Her pulse thrumd so loud I half-thought I could hear it. “Y-you two…” She swallowed, tried to speak, but couldn’t finish her sentence.
Hound’s lips twisted in a sneer, sword in hand. “I don’t care who the fuck you are,” he growled, “ghost or fuck not, I’ll send you back to the underworld.” His stance radiated raw nace, each movent of his massive fra promising violence.
“I thought you’d be taller,” I stood in the half-light, letting a breeze stir my silver-blond hair. A scornful smirk tugged at my lips as I appraised Hound’s burn-scarred face. “How about you reconsider this? I don’t want to humiliate you in a fight. Are you truly here to defend the incest-born monster that squats on the Iron Throne?”
“...Your parents were sibling fuckers too.”
I snapped a finger. “Point taken,” I actually liked the Hound as a character, he was funny as fuck. He always cracked up, that was why I was wasting my breath trying to recruit him instead of just cutting him down. Then again, it’d not be easy to do that. “Alright, let’s put the incest insults aside. Still, Clegane. I know you don’t respect Joffrey, that twat. Why not wield your sword for my cause instead?”
He spat on the ground. “And how does that change anything? From one King to another? Hey, at least Joffrey is alive, unlike you, you ghost fucker. I’d sooner gut myself.” His voice held that dry, bitter humor that I’d heard so much about, making laugh. He brandished his sword, the steel glinting for blood. “We’ll see if you’ve got the steel to match your swagger.”
Sansa let out a tiny breath, trying to plead for calm, but neither of us bothered to hear her words. I shot a glance her way, offering no reassurance; the Hound was beyond reason, and I had no intention of backing down.
“Hey,” I said. “How about we make a bet on this duel?”
“Fuck off!”
Without further warning, Sandor lunged. Our blades t in a shrieking clash of sparks. I was startled at the strength behind his swing. His raw power thundered through each swing, but sohow, I caught them, parrying with the fluid agility I’d honed through countless fights. My Stats didn’t lose to the Hound, and that ant I wasn’t the only startled one here. The Hound’s eyes flickered in montary confusion; he hadn’t expected to be this strong—or this fast.
I spun away from his next punishing blow, feet dancing over broken crates and debris that littered the alley floor. Each ti Sandor attempted to corner against a wall, I slipped aside with a sudden nimbleness. Our swords scraped and chid, echoing off the bricks.
He snarled. “What the fuck are you? Your strength doesn’t make sense for your size.” He poured raw fury into an overhead strike that could’ve split a lesser man in two. I angled my blade to deflect, the impact jolting up my arm, but I held firm.
I responded with a crushing side slash that nearly tore the sword from his grip. He twisted his wrist with surprising grace for such a brute, recovering before I could deliver a finishing blow. “Freak,” he spat through gritted teeth, eyes blazing with defiance.
I smiled. “You have no idea, Clegane.”
Sweat dampened both our brows, the stench of blood and smoke wafting in from the city’s riot. My lungs filled with harsh, dusty air. Adrenaline surged as I felt the quiet draconic power inside guide my movents. I was not in the realms of human anymore. Sandor charged again, blade scraping brick, sending sparks dancing, but I sidestepped and struck a shallow cut across his armor.
He gasped, staggering back, a trickle of blood seeping through a tear in the tal. I pressed forward, unrelenting. His eyes flared wide, as if confronted by a demon.
I felt like I could have ended this even faster if I’d used my spear. But regardless, it was ending. With a powerful kick, I drove my boot into his chest, sending him crashing into a half-toppled pile of crates.
Wood splintered around him, and he dropped to a knee, sword arm trembling. I closed in, blade raised, breath ragged. I could sense the childlike terror in Sansa’s wide eyes—fear for , for him, for herself. For a mont, I entertained finishing Sandor Clegane right there, letting the final blow descend.
But so part of recognized his potential, or at least the possibility that I might need his grudging respect more than his death. He was a really useful character, and far more likeable than his brother.
My sword hovered near his throat. “I’ve no quarrel with you, Clegane,” I said in a voice colder than it was before. “You’re a fine fighter, but you made a poor choice standing in my way.” He glared up at , blood trickling over his burn-scarred cheek. I t his gaze, unblinking. “Consider my offer… because this is not the last ti we’d cross paths.”
Anger and pain warred in his dark eyes. Before he could reply, I slamd my boot into his face. He slumped, his eyes going white, sword clattering from limp fingers as he fell unconscious.
For a mont, all I heard was my own pulse. I sheathed my sword as I stared down at the large man—defeated. The infamous Hound. A shuddering exhale escaped as the realization sank in.
I had bested one of Joffrey’s deadliest n in one-on-one combat, one of the top ten within Westeros.
[You’ve made an achievent for yourself - ‘Defeat the Hound’!]
[You’ve received trendous experience points.]
[You’ve leveled up.]
[You’ve leveled up.]
[You’ve leveled up.]
[You’ve reached Level 28!]
Even the System admitted my feat, making chuckle softly. Hearing my laugh, Sansa made a strangled sound, half-sob, half-relief, pressing her back to the alley wall. I turned to find her trembling gaze locked at . The blanket around her shoulders slipped, revealing bruised arms and terror-laced eyes. My stance softened a degree.
I patted my sheathed sword for show, “It’s alright, Lady Sansa.” I said and stepped over the debris to offer her my hand. “You’ve seen enough ruin for one day. If you co with , I’ll see you safe. I can take you to your brother if you wish, or find another path for you. You just have to trust on this.”
“Trust?” Her breath hitched in her throat, eyes full of self-mockery. Yet, raw gratitude swirled with Stark pride and the mory of Targaryen cruelty in her pupils. She glanced at Sandor’s still form, then placed her trembling hand in mine. “O-okay,” she whispered. “I really hope you won't betray it.”
She was still a naive girl, so she trusted people easily. I smiled. Gently, I helped her to her feet, guiding her down the alley’s length. The riot still lood ahead, a wild sea of misery. We erged from the gloom, the muddy street opening to a chaotic horizon.
Before us, King’s Landing was in smoldering anarchy—fires and looters, soldiers and screams. My mind was already spinning on how to maneuver these crowded streets unseen. But as we stepped clear of the shadows, a sudden idea ford in my head.
I didn’t have to walk through this crowd, I had a better alternative. “Hey, cover yourself better,” I said even as I moved the blanket around her head, hiding her features.
She went to reply, but I’d already moved on. I frowned, and odd rustling stirred at my back as I focused. A strange, wrenching sensation seized , and a tear of fabric parted behind my shoulders as I grumbled in discomfort. It didn’t hurt.
Sansa gasped, her eyes widening in the flickering firelight. I also looked back. From my back, through my armor, two dark mbranous wings erged, stretching outward with a faint rasp. Veins glowed faintly red beneath the leathery surface. My draconic evolution… the wings I’d chosen…
[The Dragon Wings]!
I didn’t know the details of the options; for example, what could the eyes do? And would the scales cover all the ti? That would be troubleso. So I decided to skip it now. I was sure I’d earn all the options over ti. The claws didn’t quite interest . So, in the end, I chose Wings. It turned out I could bring them in and out of existence on will.
“W-what’s going on?!” Sansa asked, stunned.
My own breath fastened as the surge of new power tingled through my limbs. I placed my hands on her waist, eting her gaze with calmness. “It’s my first ti flying,” I said quietly, forcing a half-smile despite the tension thrumming in . “So hold on tight.”
With one powerful flap, the wings beat against the evening air and Sansa let out a startled cry as we lifted off, her arms clinging to . I took in a harrowing breath as wind slapped against my face, and I lifted off the streets and into the air. It was an odd feeling as I was dozens of ters above the city already.
Crowds in the street craned their necks, slack-jawed and terrified. I soared upward, the wings straining but carrying us higher, away from the swirling uproar and into the smoke-blackened sky.
Below, I glimpsed the city’s battered sprawl. The rioters, watchers, and victims all froze in disbelief as this ghostly figure with silver hair and great, draconic wings ascended. Over their stunned gasps and distant screams, we vanished into the gloom.
**
**
**
Co find fellow fans on Discord and more chapters on Patreon!
Patreon: Patreon/Master4thWall
Discord: .gg/dQeu27jBvf
Reviews
All reviews (0)