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Game of Thrones: Azeroth? This Is Westeros!
Game of Thrones: Starborn Conqueror
Game of Thrones: My Pets Evolve Into Dragons
Game of Thrones: Joffrey the Ruthless Emperor
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A longsword stabbed out from behind Griff and sank straight into his kidney.
Griff felt a white-hot spike of pain in his lower back. He whipped around and slashed at his attacker, roaring, "Jerry, you fucking lunatic?!"
The man who'd stabbed him—Jerry, his most trusted guy—nimbly dodged the counter and sneered with righteous fury. "The lunatic is you, Griff! Trying to murder a noble? You're digging your own grave—don't drag us down with you! You're a disgrace to every sellsword alive!"
Jerry spun toward Leo and shouted, "My lord! We were forced into this! Griff said he'd kill us if we didn't go along. Your words woke me up. For the honor of the company, I'll fight for you even if it costs my life!"
Leo gave a small smile and nodded. "Good. I believe you were all tricked by him. Same offer stands—whoever finishes Griff gets every gold coin on the ground."
The next second another sellsword lunged from behind Griff.
His blade rang off metal. The thrust never pierced the back. The man froze.
Griff was wearing chainmail?
Jerry yelled, "Griff stole the mail off the two dead sellswords! Hit the joints!"
Leo's eyes narrowed. He'd left the bloody hauberks on the battlefield earlier, planning to have them cleaned and stored once they reached King's Landing. Griff had swiped them. No wonder the bastard had the balls to betray him.
With even Griff's favorite lapdog turning on him, the rest of the sellswords—and Griff's other crony—drew steel and swarmed in.
Four against one. Even with the stolen mail, Griff couldn't block every angle. In seconds he was bleeding from half a dozen cuts.
Facing certain death, Griff threw his head back and laughed. "Hahahaha! My mistake—I picked the wrong brothers!"
All he got in return were curses and spit. They called him a stain on the company's honor, a backstabbing coward who deserved exactly what he got. Every man suddenly sounded like the most honorable sellsword who ever lived.
Griff finally dropped, gasping.
Leo walked over. The sellswords parted for him.
He stared down at the dying man. "Back home we have a saying: the best swimmer drowns, the best rider falls. And a man who loves betrayal always ends up betrayed by his own."
With that, Leo drove his sword through Griff's throat and ended it.
Six hundred experience points flooded in. His bar jumped to 900/2,400.
Leo blinked. Griff was worth more than the bandit boss? Interesting.
He wiped the blade clean on Griff's tunic, then looked at the watching sellswords. They stared back with hungry eyes.
Leo jerked his chin at the coins. "Go on. It's yours."
They dove on the gold like starving dogs.
Leo's lip curled in disgust. He quietly lifted the Grand Marshal's greatsword and shot Varyn and the three armored men a look.
Varyn got it instantly and raised his own blade.
The next second Leo triggered [Charge]. He slammed into Jerry—the loudest of the bunch—sending the man flying two yards and spitting blood. Then he rammed his sword through the back of Griff's other crony. The man died without a sound.
Just as Leo suspected, Jerry was also wearing one of the stolen hauberks.
The remaining sellswords finally realized what was happening. They spun, swords up, faces pale.
"M-my lord? What are you doing?"
"You said if we killed Griff the gold was ours!"
Leo shrugged. "I did. Never said I wouldn't kill you afterward."
"I hate betrayal. In my book, it's zero times or a thousand. You turned on me once today. Next time the price is right, you'll do it again. So you don't get a next time."
"Fuck! I knew it—these nobles are all the same!" one sellsword snarled.
"Brothers, take them!"
They charged.
Griff had swayed six men total—eight including himself and his two boys. With Griff dead, one knocked flying, and one already stabbed through the heart, five were still on their feet.
Leo's side had him, Varyn, and the three mailed sellswords.
Leo parried two attackers and gave ground. The other three closed on Varyn.
He barked at the armored trio still standing there stunned, "What the hell are you waiting for?"
They snapped out of it and waded in.
Five on five, and Leo's men were all in chainmail. The fight was over almost before it started.
In moments the five traitors were down and bleeding out. Leo's side had nothing worse than a shallow cut on one man's arm.
Leo walked among the wounded and finished them with quick thrusts. Only one was already dead—no EXP from him. The other five, including Jerry, gave him another fourteen hundred points total. Roughly two to three hundred each.
His bar now read 2,300/2,400. One hundred short of level five.
Leo figured EXP scaled with the target's fighting strength or status. Regular bandits were worth a flat hundred. These sellswords started at two hundred and up.
The leveling curve was already doubling every time. At level four it was hard to imagine what the numbers would look like at level fifteen or twenty.
He pushed the thought aside.
Leo turned to Varyn and the three mailed men. "You four did well—especially you, Varyn. Real loyalty when it counted."
Varyn's chest swelled with pride. "By the Seven, Lord Neo—you're my employer. My sword is yours. I'd walk through fire for you!"
The other three echoed the oath.
Leo nodded, satisfied. "Good. Remember those words. I hate betrayal… but I reward loyalty."
