"Or… maybe we don't have to die?" Jaime didn't understand the prophecy Cersei was talking about.
"No, I want to go to heaven! Jaime, help me!" Cersei clutched the indulgence tightly and pleaded.
So Jaime placed his hands on her again, and Cersei struggled once more.
Jaime looked at her helplessly.
"I think it's better if I tell you about the prophecy," Cersei said.
"What are you two doing up there?! Soldiers are coming this way!" the dwarf wailed from downstairs.
Cersei quickened her speech. "Do you remember the frog witch? She once foretold that my younger brother would wrap his hands around my pale neck and take my life.
I thought it was Tyrion, so I always wanted to kill him. Now I understand… it's you."
"I don't want to," Jaime said in pain.
"I know, I know, my dear! I'm sorry, but this is fate. My whole life has followed that witch's prophecy. At the moment of death, I want to try one last time to defy destiny!"
"Don't strangle me. Use your sword. Kill me that way!" she said through clenched teeth.
Jaime stood up, drew the sword Widow's Wail from his waist, and turned his back sorrowfully. Then he gently swung it toward Cersei's neck.
"Shhk—" Blood sprayed, staining the golden lion embroidered on his cloak.
"Ghh—ghh—" Cersei's throat let out a painful rasp.
Jaime turned back, only to realize in frustration that his hand had trembled and he had struck the wrong spot.
Seeing her expression twisted in extreme agony, he instinctively released the sword hilt, rushed to her side, covered her slender neck, and twisted hard, ending her suffering completely.
But when his trembling hands moved away and he looked at Cersei's corpse, he was startled to see her eyes wide open, filled with resentment even in death.
Only then did he suddenly remember: Cersei had asked him to help her defy fate.
"Damn it, what are you two doing?" the dwarf ran upstairs again. There was fresh blood splattered across his silver-gray armor, and the axe in his hand was stained red.
Thud, thud, thud—
"Don't let the dwarf escape!"
The sound of soldiers running and shouting came from the staircase below.
Looking at his sister's unclosed eyes, the dwarf spat. "You two got me killed!"
"Tessa!" He grabbed Jaime and retreated, shouting toward the window.
Boom!
In the next instant, wood splinters flew and bricks collapsed. Part of the wall caved in as a massive beak thrust inside.
"Screee—!" Tessa opened her mouth wide, and a violent gust swept through the room.
"Now!" Tyrion hugged Cersei's corpse, hurled it forward, and jumped into Tessa's mouth.
Tessa could swallow a horse whole, so holding three people in her mouth was no problem.
"Jaime!" the dwarf turned back and shouted anxiously.
Jaime hesitated for a moment. Seeing the Red Keep guards rushing in, he dared not delay and jumped in as well.
Boom!
With a powerful push, Tessa launched herself away from the Queen's Tower, her massive body tilting backward as she flew outward.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!
Scorpion bolts struck her wings, back, and abdomen. Even her neck was pierced by four or five sharp arrows.
"Awooo—!" Leaving behind a torrent of blood, Tessa cried out as she plunged into the dark waters of Blackwater Bay.
Back when Jon had split all two thousand cavalry from Winterfell to follow Stannis south to fight for the Iron Throne, one thousand remained in the Vale after the Battle of Winterfell to help establish the third defensive line, while the other thousand were transported with the Vale's grain from Gulltown to King's Landing.
It wasn't because Jon still wanted to serve Stannis, nor did he care for the glory of taking King's Landing. He agreed to send a thousand cavalry only because Stannis had told him about the plan for the "Battle of King's Landing."
To put it plainly, Jon had sent the Greatjon south with a thousand Northern cavalry to fight the White Walkers.
So while Stannis's mercenaries and the Vale lords clashed fiercely with the Iron Throne's forces, Jon led his Northerners behind them, collecting bodies.
Collecting bodies meant exactly that.
The Northerners carried the corpses of fallen soldiers from both sides, along with civilians caught in the chaos, outside the city and burned them in mass pyres.
On the first day, they gathered nearly four thousand bodies: two thousand from the Iron Throne's side, fifteen hundred from the Vale and mercenaries, and five hundred civilians.
Among them, Stannis personally executed over two hundred of his own men. Jon followed suit, using Dark Sister to personally behead twenty Northern knights.
Because they had looted, raped, and killed.
On the day King's Landing fell, just as Varys had said, many soldiers indulged in the kind of brutal behavior that other nobles had long grown accustomed to.
But throughout his rise, Stannis had never tolerated such conduct from his troops.
No matter how dire the circumstances, he maintained strict discipline. Anyone who raped women, robbed civilians, or killed indiscriminately was bound and sacrificed to the Lord of Light, whether mercenary, peasant soldier, or noble knight.
Just as when he once led a thousand cavalry and three thousand clansmen to attack Winterfell, marching thousands of kilometers through snow. Many soldiers, unable to endure hunger, secretly cut flesh from their comrades' corpses to eat. But once discovered, no matter how starving they were, Stannis burned them all.
Jon followed the same example.
As a result, by the second day, not a single case of rape or looting occurred in King's Landing.
However, such harsh discipline also meant that deserters were never lacking in Stannis's ranks.
"Mercy, my lord! Duke Jon, please spare me! Back in Braavos, I have an eight-year-old son and a fifty-year-old mother waiting for me. I can't die!"
On the northern shore of Blackwater Bay, behind a small hill, a four-meter-long rowboat was tied near the shallows, filled with gold and silver vessels and bloodstained silks and furs.
Four Braavosi from the "Great White Shark Mercenary Company" knelt on the damp sand, repeatedly kowtowing toward the unicorn knight standing atop the hill.
Behind the unicorn knight stood thirty dismounted cavalry, bows drawn, aiming at the mercenaries.
"Caw, caw! Blood! Murder! They killed people! Don't let a single one go, take them all!" The large black raven circled once and landed on the knight's shoulder, crying loudly.
The white wolf beside the unicorn snorted in agreement.
"Capture them. If they resist, kill them on the spot," Jon said coldly, his eyes flashing.
On the way back to camp, Jon encountered Davos, who looked exhausted and was walking on foot.
"Duke Stark, how many prisoners did you capture today?" the Onion Knight greeted him.
Jon pointed behind him. "Not many. Including these four, only twenty-three."
"Only twenty-three…" the old knight said with a wry smile.
"They're all mercenaries, with no sense of honor. They looted gold and silver from the 'Whitehead Fish Inn' on Flour Street and tried to escape," Jon said.
"Let them go," Davos waved at the Northerners guarding the deserters. "We're approaching Aegon's High Hill. We can take the Red Keep tomorrow. The war is almost over.
Starting tonight, I'll arrange for the soldiers to go to Silk Street in batches…"
At this point, the old knight gave a knowing smile. "You might want to take a look too, my lord. Silk Street has women from all over the world, even a purple priestess from Yunkai skilled in seven arts of pleasure."
"No, no need," Jon quickly refused.
Under other circumstances, he wouldn't have minded visiting the famous Silk Street of King's Landing. But the brutal civil war over the past few days had left him deeply depressed and uncertain about the future. He had no mood for brothels.
Soon after, the Hand of the King announced to the camp that King Stannis would pay for everyone to visit brothels and promised generous rewards.
Cheers erupted across the camp, morale soared instantly, and even deserters disappeared.
That day's battle ended in the afternoon. Winged riders in the sky even saw large numbers of Ironborn fleeing King's Landing through the King's Gate in the south and the Mud Gate by the river.
"My lord, Euron has fled!" the Greatjon shouted from outside the Steel Gate, spotting the unicorn knight from dozens of meters away. "We've won, even though we didn't fight a single battle!"
"Are you sure? I just saw Ser Davos. He said we would attack the Red Keep tomorrow," Jon said uncertainly.
"Even we have deserters. The Ironborn see no hope of victory, so there will be even more of them. They're fleeing in waves now. By tomorrow, how many will be left in the Red Keep? If Euron doesn't run today, he won't be able to tomorrow!" the Greatjon laughed.
Jon's expression shifted. "How many died today?"
The Greatjon trudged over through muddy, slushy roads and sighed, breathing out white mist. "It was brutal. We lost five thousand. The enemy lost six or seven thousand. Both sides are at their limit. It's just a matter of who collapses first.
But it seems our morale, though not high, is still better than Euron's."
"The casualties are too heavy," Jon said grimly.
"In street fighting, even dragons aren't that effective. At noon, three dragon riders were even shot down," the Greatjon said, shaking his head.
"I only heard one cry," Jon frowned.
"Two had their heads pierced and fell like stones, dying without a sound."
After a pause, the Greatjon added, "Euron was too cunning. He hid scorpions inside houses and aimed through small roof windows. It was like shooting at live targets."
"The scene was spectacular and sudden. It stunned me. In fact, the whole battlefield fell silent for a moment.
Then Stannis, riding a two-headed dragon, burned the streets in fury. Any house that fired bolts, whether civilian or military, was set ablaze.
But dragons aren't invincible. I saw at least two arrows pierce the dragon's neck, blood pouring out, and its wings were shredded like a beggar's rags.
In the end, it couldn't even fly.
Now I understand why the Dragon Queen's dragons wear chainmail."
Jon listened with fascination and regret. "I didn't expect a dragon battle today. I should have left a raven in the sky to watch."
"Watch! I want to watch! Caw, caw!" Mormont's raven flapped its wings excitedly.
"Indeed, today's battle was more impressive than yesterday's. Euron may be losing, but he fought brilliantly today," the Greatjon said, both excited and regretful. "What a shame we didn't take part in such a grand battle!"
"Even if you hadn't fought at Winterfell, you should know how dire the situation in the Seven Kingdoms is now.
If humans keep fighting among themselves, what does it achieve besides wasting strength?" Jon rebuked sharply.
"I was just saying," the Greatjon muttered.
Though he was a veteran of three generations at Winterfell, he still behaved as obediently as a direwolf under Jon's reprimand.
Jon did not press further and softened his tone. "Finish moving the bodies out of the city and burn them. Tonight, you can visit Silk Street. Stannis is paying."
"Haha, that's wonderful!" the Greatjon laughed, nostalgic. "The last time I went to Silk Street was during the War of the Usurper. Your father, Edd—"
BOOOOOOOOM!
The earth shook. Their ears rang with nothing but a deafening hum as a ghastly green light suddenly filled their entire field of vision within King's Landing.
(End of Chapter)
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