Game of Thrones: Holy Flame King

Fighting broke out suddenly.

Throwing away the corpse in his hand, Samwell sighed that the "Red Viper" was really poisonous enough, and then he carried the war hammer and prepared to fight.

It seemed that the Dornishmen were really concerned about the four statues of the Seven Gods blocking the gate on the first floor, so they didn't take out battering rams to hit them. Instead, they brought a climbing ladder and tried to break in from the second floor.

Perhaps in the eyes of the Dornish people, it is not a problem to take down this temple, so there is no need to blaspheme the Seven Gods.

I don't know if they will still be so pious when they are unable to attack for a long time.

Although the Seven Gods restrained the Dornishmen, the battle was still fierce.

After all, the sanctuary is not a special fortress, and it is not suitable for defense. Moreover, the defenders are all cavalry. Regardless of weapon configuration or combat skills, they are more inclined to charge on the battlefield. It seems a bit rusty to deal with this kind of offensive and defensive battle.

Less than two hours after the battle started, the Dornishmen rushed into the second floor, drawing the battle into the cruelest close quarters.

Samwell swung his warhammer so fiercely that almost no one could block his blow.

Even if the Dornishman held up the shield, it was useless. Under the blessing of Samwell's terrifying power, with a hammer, the shield was torn apart, and the Dornishman behind him also vomited blood and flew wildly.

But even so, it cannot prevent the overall situation from gradually developing in an unfavorable direction.

There are too many Dornish people.

The companions around Samwell fell one by one, and soon even his younger brother Dickon was injured.

In desperation, he had no choice but to pull out the giant sword behind his back.

As soon as [Dawn] came out, the battlefield was immediately cleared, and more than a dozen Dornishmen turned into burning men.

This horrible scene seemed to press the pause button for the attack.

But it was only a pause, not an end. After a short period of fear, the Dornishmen rushed forward again.

They are professional soldiers, not the civilians in Sandstone City before, and their ability to withstand death is not at the same level.

What's more, this time there is the "Red Viper" Prince Oberyn personally supervising the battle below.

The madness of the Dornish people can be imagined.

Samwell swung his sword again and killed more than a dozen people, but after all, he didn't dare to swing the third sword. If the third sword could not scare off the Dornishmen, he could only be slaughtered.

Seemingly seeing that Samwell could not swing the third sword again, the Dornishman came over more ferociously.

Seeing that the situation was about to collapse, the Dornish people suddenly receded like a tide.

Samwell breathed a sigh of relief, but couldn't help wondering what was going on.

When he released the falcon to hover high in the sky, he realized that it was the Iron Throne army outside the north city gate that had begun to attack, and the Dornishmen naturally ignored them.

However, in order to prevent the people in the sanctuary from coming out to make trouble, Prince Oberyn still left some soldiers to surround the sanctuary.

Samwell and others can finally breathe a sigh of relief.

In just half a day, they lost more than 60 soldiers under the crazy attack of the Dornish people. Such a huge casualty filled the church with an atmosphere of sadness and even despair.

"Don't worry, everyone!" Earl Jorn stood up again to boost morale, "The Dornishmen won't hold out for long! The Iron Throne's army has captured the tower once, and they will definitely be able to capture the second time! We only need to hold on for a few days, You will definitely be able to wait for victory!"

Afterwards, he led the crowd to pray to the Seven Gods.

The mood of the soldiers gradually eased, at least on the surface, there was nothing unusual.

Samwell helped his brother deal with the wound on his arm, but his mood was not so relaxed.

He watched the siege battle outside the north city gate for a while through the eyes of the falcon just now, and found that the attack of the Iron Throne army was not as fierce as expected. .

This situation is clearly not normal.

If the city had been captured once just now, the Iron Throne's army should be coming aggressively at this moment.

Samwell quietly told Earl Jorn what he had observed.

"We can't control the attack outside the city." Earl Jorn was also a little helpless, "No matter what's going on outside, the only thing we can do is to guard the sanctuary and try to contain the strength of the Dornishmen."

Samwell was also a little helpless.

Yes, they are trapped in the enemy's city, and there is nothing to do but hold out in the sanctuary.

In the next few days, the Dornishmen launched more than a dozen attacks on the sanctuary, but the attacks were obviously not as ferocious as the first time. It seemed that the army outside the northern city still restrained their main energy.

Even so, the casualties in the sanctuary continued to rise day by day, and morale continued to drop.

And supply is also a problem.

The dry food he was carrying was not lacking, but the fresh water had been drunk, and there was no water source in the sanctuary, so Earl Jorn reluctantly gave the order to kill the horse.

Although horse blood is fishy and dry, it can at least quench your thirst.

On the ninth day, there was a rain, and it was like a carnival day in the church. Everyone gathered on the second floor, stuck their heads out of the window, and opened their mouths to catch the rainwater.

Seeing this, the Dornishmen immediately launched an attack, and the two sides fought again in the rain.

The blood mixed with the rain was flowing wantonly on the ground, and the scene had a strange beauty.

This attack lasted half a day, and the Dornishmen fell back again.

Samwell walked to the first floor of the hall, wet all over, and was about to take off his armor to rest, but a valley knight ran over and said:

"Lord Caesar, Earl Jorn...is seriously injured."

Samwell was slightly startled, because he realized from the expression of the knight in the valley that Earl Yorn's injury was probably more serious than the so-called serious injury...

He didn't care about taking off his armor, and quickly followed the Valley Knight to the north side of the hall.

"I've said it earlier, this bronze armor can't save your life." Earl Jorn was still in the mood to joke when he saw Samwell coming.

Samwell squatted down and carefully inspected the injury, and saw that an arrow had just penetrated Earl Jorn's left chest through a gap on the side of the armor, and blood had already flowed all over the floor.

The earl's second son, Sir Robert Royce, tried to stop his father's bleeding, but to no avail.

"Okay, Robert, don't bother." Earl Jorn was very appreciative, "There is no one who wears this armor and dies well. How can I be an exception?"

"Father..." Luo Bar was already sobbing.

Earl Jorn looked at Samwell and said:

"Master Caesar, I can't continue to command, so I leave the command of this cavalry squad to you. I hope you can lead them to the final victory."

"Okay." Samwell nodded heavily.

"Your armor is no good either." Earl Jorn suddenly pointed at Samwell.

Indeed, this set of armor on Samwell's body has become scarred from the fierce melee combat. A large piece of the breastplate was dented, and the lobster gauntlet on his right hand was simply split open.

"Put on mine, I don't need it anyway."

Samwell was stunned for a moment, and saw that Earl Jorn had signaled his son Robert to help him take off his armor.

"I..." Samwell had mixed feelings, and finally accepted Earl Jorn's kindness, "I will definitely not let you down!"

Earl Jorn took off his armor with difficulty, gasped for a long while, and then said in an extremely weak tone: "If you can help me kill the red poisonous snake, this set of armor will be yours."

"Father!" Sir Robert became anxious when he heard that his father wanted to give away the family's inherited armor to others.

But Earl Jorn had already made up his mind, staring into Samwell's eyes, and asked, "How about it? Do you dare to accept it? I won't lie to you, for thousands of years, there has been no one wearing this set of armor." A good death. They all died on the battlefield."

Samwell shuddered slightly, as if he finally understood why this "Bronze Jon" had been so obsessed.

"Is there a curse on this set of bronze armor?"

"Haha, maybe. You choose."

Samwell only hesitated for a moment, and then began to take off his armor.

Earl Jorn showed admiration, and said:

"Curse and blessing are two sides of the same coin. Sir Caesar, as long as you can bear the curse, you will welcome the blessings of the gods."

Samwell held up the bronze armor with both hands, only to find that it was not stained with blood, and there were no scratches left by swords, as if nothing could leave traces on it, except for the patterns on the bronze itself and the hieroglyphs. The same weird spell.

This is a set of relatively light armor, which does not affect the movement at all, but because of this, its protection range is smaller than that of heavy steel plate armor.

When Samwell wore it, he didn't even need the help of his attendants, he could do it by himself.

Earl Jorn has been staring at Samwell, with an inexplicable look in his eyes:

"Remember her name..."

After a pause, Earl Jorn's voice came again: "Time."

"Time?" Samwell couldn't help muttering again, feeling the cold and boundless aura coming from the armor.

"[Time]." Earl Jorn repeated, staring at the bronze armor as if he had traveled through thousands of years and saw the scene of the ancient era.

"Time washes away everything, but we will remember."

Samwell put on the bronze helmet, and Earl Jorn's words suddenly seemed very far away in his ears.

The light and shadow flowed in front of my eyes, and the fog filled the air.

When his vision was solidified again, Samwell found that there was a huge ice wall in front of him. It covered the sky and the sun, stretching between the mountains and fields, as if dividing the world into two parts.

The Great Wall of Desperation!

The icy cold that hit his face made Samwell tremble slightly. He looked around, and there were weirwood trees everywhere he could see.

Old faces were engraved on the tree trunk, and blood-red juice flowed from the eyes.

The shadows gathered and coiled among the trees, gradually forming seven figures.

They were wearing ancient bronze armor, and the leader was actually Samwell himself!

He was startled suddenly, the world was spinning, and his illusions were shattered.

With one last glance, he saw a woman who looked like an ice sculpture.

She doesn't have a breath of life, pale skin, pale lips, pale eyes, the only color is the winter snow rose wreath on her head.

The only red color is so dazzling in the pale world.

Like blood.

The cries in his ears brought Samwell back to reality, and he looked down, only to find that Earl Jorn had closed his eyes.

The bronze armor still emitted bursts of cold air, as if reminding him of something.

Samwell bowed to Earl Jorn's body, and then couldn't help blurting out the family language of the Royce family:

"We remember."