11 Inside the study it was so quiet that only the sound of sea wind beating against the window frames remained.
Rek’Sai stood up.
His massive body blocked the sunlight casting in through the narrow window.
He hung the leather pouch full of gold coins on his belt.
The corner of his mouth pulled into a mocking arc.
“My lord, I have no interest in territory.” Rek’Sai looked down at Selwyn from above.
“I will not go listen to commoners complain about lost sheep, and I will not care whose wife is sleeping around.
I only want gold coins, fine wine, and women.” He strode toward the door and slightly turned his head.
“However, if someone is giving land away for free, I will definitely take it.
As long as you dare to give it.” Rek’Sai lowered his head and squeezed out of the study.
His heavy footsteps faded along the corridor.
Selwyn sat in the wide-backed chair.
He did not feel anger because of Rek’Sai’s crude words.
On the contrary, his tense shoulders relaxed.
In the past more than ten years, he had seen too many knights who talked full of honor and oaths, yet behind the scenes secretly struck with a black hand for a few silver coins.
Rek’Sai’s pure interest-driven nature instead made him feel reliable.
He did not scheme for the inheritance of House Tarth.
He only wanted visible enjoyment.
“Truly a terrifying beast.” Selwyn picked up the wine cup on the table and spoke softly to himself.
He recalled the oppressive feeling when Rek’Sai had stood in the room just now.
Selwyn had heard the rumors from the Westerlands about a man named Gregor Clegane, said to be able to kill a bear with one punch.
He believed Rek’Sai should not be inferior to that Westerlands monster.
But at this moment Selwyn was a little curious: if he and the Mountain crashed into each other, which side would be torn apart?
A light cough came from outside the door.
Humphrey Wagstaff pushed the door open and walked into the study.
This thin old knight had changed into a gorgeous silk surcoat, the arms of House Wagstaff embroidered on his chest.
“Lord Selwyn.” Humphrey walked to the desk, a trace of dissatisfaction in his tone.
“I just saw that wild man leaving your study.
When did Evenfall Hall fall so low as to allow this kind of muddy-legged fellow to wander around the inner keep?” “He is, after all, Brienne’s life-saver.” Selwyn put down the wine cup, his voice plain.
Humphrey gave a cold snort, pulled out a chair, and sat down.
“The duel three days from now is a farce.
I am only willing to marry that daughter of yours who has not the slightest femininity for the sake of House Tarth.
If this duel continues, Fullview’s face will not look good, and Evenfall Hall will also become a laughingstock.” He leaned his body forward, eyes locked tightly on Selwyn.
“Go talk to Brienne.
Let her symbolically wave her sword a few times on the training ground, then drop her weapon and admit defeat.
I do not want to injure her before the marriage.” Selwyn looked at the foolish old man in front of him.
His eye sockets were deep, the backs of his hands covered in age spots, yet he was still immersed in the illusion of controlling everything.
“I will pass your words along.” Humphrey nodded in satisfaction, stood up, and adjusted his surcoat.
“The action of a smart man.
Three days from now, I will show mercy.” Three days’ time passed in a flash.
The surroundings of Evenfall Hall’s training ground were packed with people.
House Tarth’s guards, the castle’s servants, and Ser Goodwin all stood at the railing.
Sea wind rolled up the yellow sand on the training ground.
Rek’Sai sat on a high stack of dry hay, holding an entire roasted sheep leg in his hand and tearing into it with big bites.
Pig lay at his feet, giving out dull purring sounds.
At both ends of the training ground, the two sides of the duel had already taken their positions.
Humphrey was wearing a full set of fine steel chainmail, holding a heavy longsword in his hand.
His gray-white hair was messy in the wind.
The squires beside him were busy helping him tighten the straps of the armor.
Opposite, Brienne only wore a leather armor inlaid with iron plates, holding the longsword she commonly used in her hand.
“Brienne, it is still not too late for you to admit defeat now!” Humphrey raised the longsword and declared loudly, “As long as you kneel and apologize to me, put on a long dress, I will still fulfill the betrothal!” The surrounding crowd let out a wave of low murmurs.
Ser Goodwin tightly furrowed his brow.
He had seen Brienne’s strength, but a duel relied not only on strength, but also on experience and technique.
Brienne did not pay attention to Humphrey.
She closed her eyes.
Rek’Sai’s teachings echoed in her mind.
Control the breathing.
Her breathing rhythm became long and steady.
When she opened her eyes, only pure battle intent remained in those blue pupils.
“Begin!” Lord Selwyn stood on the high platform and waved down a handkerchief.
Humphrey gave a loud shout, gripped the sword with both hands, and stepped forward to charge.
The heavy chainmail made his movements appear somewhat stiff, but he firmly believed this powered downward slash was enough to knock the weapon from that girl’s hand.
Brienne stood in place, both feet firmly nailed into the sandy ground.
She did not raise her sword to block.
At the exact moment Humphrey’s blade was about to chop into her, Brienne’s waist suddenly exerted force, and her body slid half a step to the left.
The longsword scraped past her leather armor and chopped empty, heavily smashing into the sand.
Humphrey staggered one step forward because of inertia, his center completely open.
Brienne’s mouth let out a short explosive sound.
The muscles of her right arm instantly swelled.
The longsword together with the scabbard was treated by her like a short club.
Relying on the power of twisting her waist, she fiercely struck toward Humphrey’s face.
Pa!
The bone-cracking sound that made one’s teeth ache rang through the entire training ground.
Humphrey let out a pig-slaughtering scream.
His nasal bone was directly shattered into pieces by the scabbard.
Blood mixed with bone fragments sprayed outward.
He dropped the longsword, covered his face with both hands, and painfully retreated backward.
Brienne had not the slightest pause.
Rek’Sai had taught her: as long as the enemy can still move, never stop attacking.
She stepped forward, bent her left leg, and a fierce knee strike solidly slammed into Humphrey’s ribs.
Chainmail could not deal well with impact.
Crack.
The sound of three ribs breaking at the same time was clearly audible.
Humphrey’s whole body was knocked so that both feet left the ground, and he heavily fell into the sand pit.
He twitched twice and directly fainted dead away.
The entire field was deathly silent.
Ser Goodwin opened his mouth wide, extremely surprised.
An old knight who had experienced war had been crushed like beating a sandbag by a fifteen-year-old underage girl.
Only absolute speed and power.
Brienne stood in place and slowly exhaled a breath of turbid air.
She lowered her head to look at her own hands, wild joy flashing in her eyes.
This was the destructive power brought by the breathing method.
“You did fairly well.” Rek’Sai bit into the sheep leg and evaluated unclearly.
Lord Selwyn stood on the high platform, the corner of his eye twitching hard.
He had anticipated that Brienne would win, but he had not anticipated she would win so brutally.
Several Wagstaff family squires panicked and rushed into the training ground, clumsily lifted the Humphrey whose life or death was unknown, and fled toward the carriage in a gray and dejected manner.
The betrothal was thoroughly abolished.
Selwyn cleared his throat, strode down from the high platform, and came to the center of the training ground.
“Brienne of Tarth has won the duel.” Selwyn announced in a loud voice, then he turned his head to look at Rek’Sai sitting on the dry haystack.
“Rek’Sai Storm.” Selwyn’s tone became solemn.
“Step forward.” Rek’Sai swallowed the mutton in his mouth, patted the grease from his hands, and slowly stood up.
His enormous body type once again made the surrounding crowd instinctively retreat.
He walked in front of Selwyn and did not kneel.
Selwyn did not mind either.
He drew the longsword at his waist.
The blade flashed under the sunlight.
“You saved the heir of House Tarth and taught her to become a true warrior.
In the name of the Evenstar, I hereby knight you.” Selwyn lightly patted the spine of the sword on Rek’Sai’s left shoulder, then patted the right shoulder.
“From today onward, you are Ser Rek’Sai.
I grant you Cedar Village on the eastern coast and the surrounding lands.
You will become a landed knight of House Tarth.” A sparse round of applause erupted from the crowd.
Most people were still immersed in the shock of this wild man suddenly becoming a knight.
[Quest Triggered: Territory Development] [Quest Objective: Proceed to Bloodpine Village and establish absolute ruling authority.] [Quest Reward: Unlock Basic Beast Camp] Rek’Sai grinned, revealing sharp white teeth.
The system prompt sound in his mind made the smile at the corner of Rek’Sai’s mouth even deeper.
He turned his head and looked toward the direction of the eastern coast.
There was not only gold that belonged to him, but also the new hunting ground given by the system.
“Let’s go, disciple.” Rek’Sai flipped onto Pig’s back and looked down at Brienne from above.
“Go take a look at my territory.”