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With a sharp rush of wind, Bloodwind raced through the broad stone streets. Along the way, most of the smallfolk managed to get out of his path in time, but a few unlucky ones were sent flying after being struck by him.
After passing through a stepped alley whose walls were still blackened, he arrived at the wide expanse of Cobbler's Square. There, he suddenly slowed and stopped advancing.
Before him, the now empty and spacious square had three different exits. He stretched his neck and sniffed the air, catching a familiar, hostile scent.
Through the mental connection, he sensed the direction where Robb was and realized that the irritating smell was coming from the very passage where his master was.
Hidden in the passage on the right side of the square, Jaime watched the gigantic silhouette of the armored direwolf, his armor already red with blood, and frowned.
Seeing no sign of Robb Stark anywhere behind him, Jaime immediately ordered the messenger beside him.
"Sound the horn. Have all the soldiers come out. Force that beast into that passage."
Bwooom! Bwooom!
At the sound of the horn, the two ambush groups hidden on either side of the square, forty men on each side, began advancing in formation. Their steps were still poorly coordinated as they emerged from the side passages.
Of the eighty men in the square, only thirty were Gold Cloaks brought by Jaime. The other fifty were soldiers who, after hearing the commotion during the search for Robb Stark, had gradually gathered there.
Most of them were Gold Cloaks, with only a minority being Lannister soldiers.
Because of that, as the two groups moved, they showed little coordination. Their formation was fairly disorganized.
But since this was not a formal battle, the soldiers immediately reorganized their ranks once they reached the exits of the two side passages.
Seeing humans appear from both sides, together with the scent in the air, the intelligent direwolf immediately realized there was a trap.
Even so, pretending he had noticed nothing, he planted all four paws on the ground and rushed toward the stone passage directly ahead, exactly where the irritating scent was coming from.
Hmph. No matter how big it is, it's still just a mindless beast.
Watching the armored direwolf run straight into the trap, Jaime, standing at the entrance of the passage on the right, thought to himself.
When he judged the timing was right, he shouted:
"Light it!"
Beside Jaime, an archer who had already been prepared shot a flaming arrow straight into the sky.
The arrow traced a perfect arc and fell in front of the stone passage.
The green liquid that had already been spread across the passage floor immediately caught fire. In only moments, a ghostly green flame began to rise.
Cobbler's Square had already suffered a great fire only a few days earlier.
Now, a new wave of green fire had appeared there again.
But the moment the flaming arrow rose into the sky, Bloodwind, who had been watching both sides carefully from the beginning, abruptly changed direction and charged toward the formation on the right, exactly where the arrow had come from.
"Damn it! That beast's target is us! Everyone, prepare for combat!"
Seeing the armored wolf suddenly change course, Jaime paled, drew the sword at his waist, and shouted loudly.
Back when he had served in the Mad King's Kingsguard, Jaime had already seen horrors beyond reason. So, considering the possibility that this creature could not be defeated by ordinary force, he had thought of wildfire.
That was precisely why he had gone to the Alchemists' Guild and obtained a small amount of the substance, planning to set a trap that would burn that aberration alive.
Who could have imagined that the direwolf, even without Robb Stark there to command him, would be this intelligent?
Even with the stalls and awnings of the square obstructing his charge and preventing the beast from reaching full speed, his advance was still terrifying.
In only moments, he was about to collide with Jaime's formation.
Facing that charge, Jaime kept his expression steady and stood in the front line of the formation, sword in hand.
In his mind, he planned to deal with it the way one would deal with a cavalry charge, watching for the right moment and striking at the animal's legs.
But when that monster, covered in bloodstained armor, came rushing toward him, Jaime met the creature's cunning eyes.
In that instant, a violent sense of danger exploded inside him.
Without hesitation, he abandoned the original plan completely and threw himself to the side in a roll, dodging before the impact.
And his instinct was right.
Just as he was about to collide with the formation, the beast suddenly increased his speed by nearly a third and hit the line of soldiers before they could react.
The men in the front line were the unluckiest. They were launched into the air at once.
Compared with the Gold Cloaks who had been trampled before the Gate of the Gods, they could even be considered luckier, because Bloodwind was not at full speed and therefore did not send them flying as high.
But that did not save them.
The impact against the formation made the soldiers fall over one another like a row of dominoes, creating complete chaos.
This time, since he had not reached maximum speed, Bloodwind did not fully break through the line. When he reached the rear of the formation, he was momentarily bogged down among the men surrounding him on every side.
But for those soldiers, that might have been the worst possible news.
Why had the wolf been able to accelerate so much so suddenly?
Because ever since his attributes had surpassed the 10 mark, Robb had deliberately kept him restrained, forcing him to hide his true strength and turning it into another secret card.
Even during the war against the Dreadfort, even after being struck by three arrows, Robb had never allowed him to use his body's full potential.
At Gendry's smithy, Robb had calmed him from a distance and sent him a clear order. After leaving the wagon, he no longer needed to hold back. He could fight with all his strength.
At the inn and at the Gate of the Gods, the direwolf had barely needed to use his true strength to crush his enemies.
But now, these hateful humans had set an ambush and tried to burn him alive with that terrifying fire he already knew.
His fury erupted completely.
Without the slightest intention of showing mercy, he attacked with everything he had.
In the middle of the crowd, the wolf raised a forepaw with absurd speed and sent a soldier flying with a single blow. His sharp claws left four deep furrows across the man's chest.
At the same time, his huge maw, filled with serrated fangs, did not remain idle either. He thrust his head forward, seized a soldier's head in his jaws, and ripped it off with a violent sideways motion.
The head separated from the body at once.
The headless trunk sprayed blood so violently that the scene was not much different from a sword beheading.
Some soldiers tried to attack his exposed paws, seeking the parts not protected by armor.
But against the speed of the wolf's neck and the reach of his paws, which were longer than swords, none of them could truly get close.
After rolling aside and getting back to his feet, Jaime watched the monster surrounded by soldiers and advanced a few steps, preparing to strike beneath the tail, one of the few places not covered by armor.
But before he could get close, a Lannister soldier with the same idea moved first.
That man came from behind on the direwolf's right side and had barely approached with his sword raised.
Sensing a presence behind him, the beast tilted his head and merely cast a glance backward.
Then he lifted his right hind leg in a lightning-fast motion, drove it into the soldier's chest, who was wearing mail, and kicked upward.
The sharp claws tore through his chest from bottom to top until they tore his jaw clean off.
Blood and flesh exploded in every direction.
"Ah! Aah!"
Thrown out of the circle of combat by the force of Bloodwind's kick, the soldier landed right beside Jaime.
Stretched out on the ground, he let out heart-rending screams of pain, trying to raise his right hand to ask for help.
Seeing that the man had no jaw, with his tongue and teeth completely exposed, Jaime shook his head and drove his sword into his heart, ending his suffering.
In that age, an ordinary man could never be saved from a wound like that.
That direwolf fighting with all his strength was, quite simply, the worst killer of men imaginable.
His monstrous bite and his paws, carrying absurd force, meant the same thing for any soldier.
A touch would wound.
A blow would kill.
Even the few who were lucky enough not to die immediately ended up horribly mutilated, in no condition to continue fighting.
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