"What the fu... gah!"
The remaining four assassins ended up with their faces splattered with the blood rain brought by the sword wind just now.
They all spun around in horror towards their back.
Compared to something that could sever three armored warriors in one strike, Robert and his intimidating warhammer seemed less menacing.
Robert was indeed a top-notch warrior.
Though he too was momentarily stunned by Lann’s powerful sweeping strike, he instinctively seized the opportunity when the enemy exposed their backs to him!
The hammer felt perfectly natural in Robert’s hands. Although he hadn’t used it to kill in over a decade, today, every strike landed with the most lethal part of the hammerhead.
Chainmail or plate-inlaid leather armor held no significance against Robert’s warhammer.
Among the turning assassins, one had his back caved in the size of an adult’s fist immediately!
The first enemy Lann faced was already frightened out of his wits by the slash just now.
He gripped the spiked hammer tightly, his hands even trembling slightly.
"Need a psychological analysis of the enemy?"
Mentos calmly inquired in Lann’s mind.
Lann’s tone was the same as its.
"No need, he’s already panicking."
And in a battle, when you’re panicked... you’re dead.
Lann feigned a rightward sidestep feint, causing the trembling-eyed assassin to swing his spiked hammer impulsively in fear.
But as he struck, Lann had already shifted his weight back to the left.
As the Demon Hunter brushed past, he raised his sword, slicing off the assassin’s right hand from mid-arm!
The second approaching assassin wielded a flail, a weapon with a hammer connected to the handle by a chain, turning swing attacks into whipping attacks.
Though more effective, its use conditions were more demanding. At least it needed room to swing.
But now, Lann’s proximity didn’t allow for flail swinging, so he gritted his teeth, tucked a piercing dagger against his chest, and recklessly charged forward.
A weight of over a hundred kilos, both armored and human, with a pointed metal piece charging at someone.
Knights in full plate wouldn’t dare abandon their shield to block such an attack in a foot battle!
The swordsman in front was just a guy wearing several layers of composite armor... surely...
With a crisp "pa" sound,
The assassin’s eyes, filled with resolve and confidence, were crushed like a joke before a gloved hand with studs.
In his mind, absolutely no one could withstand such an onslaught without a shield in close combat, and it was stopped with one hand...
The force, all of his strength... seemed as ineffective as a child before that one hand.
The hand gripping the wrist flipped over, and in one fluid motion during the assassin’s desperate struggle, stabbed into his throat.
Even as blood gushed from his throat, disbelief still overwhelmed the assassin’s eyes.
As Lann dealt with these two assassins, the last surviving one already had his leg broken by Robert with the hammer.
The human knee, which could only bend backwards, was now twisted sideways.
At the edge of the tournament grounds, a rising clamor could be heard, with participants locked in combat being split apart like a wave.
Although the King’s guards were trying their best to rush over, the battle belonging to the King had already reached its conclusion.
The berserk contestants were like harmless cotton candy before the well-equipped, battle-formed army.
Who would fear rabid cotton candy?
Thus, the contestants sensibly regained their composure in a very short time.
The two who had been pressing blades against each other’s necks just a moment ago were now squeezed to the fence by the guards.
As they awkwardly exchanged glances, they might even chat a bit.
"You too, that blade almost stabbed my neck earlier."
Lann surveyed the surroundings, and as Mentos concluded its situation analysis, there were no more assassins on the scene.
So the young man walked next to the King, watching the ’Wai Tui’Er’ groaning in the mud.
"Want to keep a tongue alive?"
Robert shook his head, breathing heavily under his helmet.
Nothing can be extracted from a dead man.
And that ’Wai Tui’Er’, seemingly aware of his fate, endured the pain with gritted teeth and shouted with a fierce expression,
"For the Targaryen Dynasty! The true dragon shall return!"
Lann glanced sideways at the King, but to his surprise, this hot-tempered King didn’t burst into cursing or foul language.
Instead, he calmly nodded, then raised his hammer high and swung it down on the man’s head!
After the sound of a shell cracking, the ground was left with a convulsing corpse.
"I thought you’d be furious."
"Come on, kid. Shouting the master’s name before dying, you think I’d fall for such an obvious setup?"
If it were the previous you, you’d definitely be caught by now.
Lann quietly teased in his mind.
Robert was indeed the kind meant to charge across battlefields. After a brush with death, he showed none of the hysteria a normal person would.
If anything, it seemed as if he’d returned to his prime, becoming the great warrior who maintained both rage and reason.
"Though I hate to admit it, judging by the situation earlier, without you, I might really have died here."
Removing his antlered helm, Robert wiped the sweat and moisture from his beard, seriously looking at Lann.
"I don’t need to see your skills to know you’ll get this championship; you now have ten thousand gold dragons. But apart from the prize, I personally owe you a debt."
"What do you want? More money? Honor? Fame? You saved the King of the Seven Kingdoms, so ask without hesitation."
Lann appreciated Robert’s straightforwardness and stated the reward he’d long planned for.
"Dragon bone, Your Majesty. Just give me dragon bone."
"Dragon bone? Hmm, I’m beginning to suspect you’re a Targaryen."
Robert clicked his tongue.
"Though I don’t know what you plan to do with it, it’s just some bones... When I took King’s Landing, I had all the dragon bones swept into the cellar. If you want them, you can take all of them."
As he spoke, the guard led by the [Fearless] Balistan once again surrounded the King.
The King’s life was no longer in danger.
But as Lann made his way toward the railing, he inevitably saw a cold-faced Edd and a concerned Petyr Baelish.