Consciousness slammed back into William’s body.
The instant he broke free from that abyss of terror, he heard himself roaring.
“Garlan!” Blood sprayed into the air.
With a savage wrench, William ripped the axe free from his shattered breastplate and hurled it toward the Ironborn who was charging after Garlan.
The weapon crossed the distance in a blur.
The spinning axe struck the man squarely in the head.
The impact was so violent that it looked as though he had been struck by a charging horse.
His body flew backward and crashed into the ground.
“AAAAAH!” William staggered to his feet.
A horrifying crack split his breastplate open across the chest.
Blood soaked the metal and dripped down his armor.
Inside him, something was burning.
A raging fire.
It scorched his heart.
The pain was unbearable.
He wanted to tear everything before him apart.
The largest Ironborn, clearly the leader, barked a series of commands.
Perhaps he was promising rewards.
Perhaps glory.
Whatever he said, it worked.
The raiders roared excitedly and surged forward.
William didn’t think.
Didn’t hesitate.
He swung.
The first Ironborn raised his round shield.
The man clearly intended to block the strike and immediately counterattack.
Instead, the shield exploded.
William’s sword smashed straight through it.
The blade continued downward without losing momentum.
The Ironborn was nearly cleaved in half from shoulder to waist.
His final sound in this world was a scream of unimaginable agony.
The corpse fell.
The burning pain in William’s chest eased slightly.
That only fueled his fury.
He ignored every weapon coming toward him.
Axes.
Swords.
Spears.
None mattered.
He simply stepped forward and swung.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Every strike brought blood.
Every strike claimed a life.
The Ironborn line began to buckle, and panic spread through their ranks.
Seeing his men on the verge of collapse, the Ironborn leader finally charged.
His massive axe flashed through the air.
Danger!
William’s protective absorption spell had already been shattered by the earlier attack.
Instinct screamed.
This blow could kill me.
He reacted immediately.
Just as before, he changed direction with explosive speed.
The axe missed its target, and William attacked from the side.
Clang!
His sword struck the giant axe.
To his surprise, the Ironborn leader reacted with incredible speed.
The deadly blow was blocked.
William’s anger surged even higher.
He attacked again.
And again.
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
Steel thundered without pause.
The Ironborn leader retreated step after step.
For the first time, genuine concern appeared on his face.
Never in his life had he imagined meeting a warrior in the Reach who surpassed him in both strength and speed.
His only hope was endurance.
No one could fight like this forever.
Surely the knight would tire and an opening would appear.
Surely there would be a chance to strike back.
Or at least escape.
But William’s attacks only grew stronger.
Each swing carried more force than the last.
The giant’s arms began to numb.
His grip weakened.
Then William raised his sword overhead and brought it crashing down.
The Ironborn leader reacted automatically.
He lifted his axe to block.
It was exactly what William wanted.
At the last instant, the sword changed direction.
A beautiful arc flashed through the air.
The blade cut through the wooden haft of the axe.
The giant’s eyes widened in despair.
The sword continued.
Through flesh.
Through bone.
Through steel.
The Ironborn leader and his massive axe were cut apart together.
Four pieces crashed to the ground.
Blood erupted skyward.
Bathed in crimson rain, William threw back his head and roared.
The sight shattered what remained of the Ironborn’s courage.
They no longer saw a man.
They saw a demon.
Screaming in terror, they turned and ran.
William pursued without mercy.
The raiders scattered in every direction.
William chased them relentlessly from one end of Tumbleton to the other.
One after another they fell.
Eventually, the survivors fled the town entirely.
Their only thought was escape.
Reach the river.
Reach the longships.
Get away from the monster behind them.
Unfortunately for them, even that proved impossible.
William followed.
Every Ironborn who entered his field of vision died.
Only when he reached the banks of the Mander did the slaughter finally end.
Wide waters stretched before him.
Several longships sat abandoned along the shore.
Not a single living Ironborn remained.
Only then did the madness begin to fade.
William dropped to one knee.
His sword plunged into the earth to support him.
One hand gripped the hilt.
The other pressed against the ground.
He gasped for breath.
His head felt as though it might split apart.
The overuse of magic had drained him beyond his limits.
The world spun.
Time lost all meaning.
========== Eventually, hoofbeats reached his ears.
A cavalry force appeared in the distance.
When he saw the green banners bearing golden roses, William wanted to smile.
The best he managed was a painful grimace.
Using every ounce of strength he had left, he hauled himself upright.
Then he pointed toward the town.
“Garlan!” His voice cracked.
“Find Garlan!” The orderly cavalry formation immediately stirred.
Most of the riders wheeled around and raced toward the town.
Two remained behind.
They dismounted and approached carefully.
Their eyes traveled from the corpse-strewn road behind him to the blood-covered knight standing like a war god among the dead.
Awe filled their faces.
Along with fear.
“Ser William…” One swallowed nervously.
“We’ll take you back to camp.
You need treatment.” When Margaery lifted the tent flap, the smell of blood hit her immediately.
She entered without hesitation.
The first thing she saw was William’s helmet.
Blood had stained it almost entirely red.
The enormous bat crest no longer looked ridiculous.
Now it appeared savage.
Predatory.
His hair beneath the helmet was matted with blood.
His handsome face was smeared with dirt and gore.
Then she saw the armor.
She had never imagined armor could absorb so much punishment.
Every inch of it was damaged.
Cuts.
Dents.
Cracks.
The enormous rent across the chest made her heart tighten.
Thankfully, his eyes still shone with life.
When their gazes met, William smiled.
The sight hurt more than she expected.
Before entering the tent, she had planned to scold him mercilessly.
Now she found herself unable to say a word.
They stared at each other for several moments.
William finally broke the silence.
“Ser Jon says Garlan is doing well.” Earlier, Ser Jon Rowan, the knight who had led the rescue force into Tumbleton, had visited William and shared news of Garlan’s condition.
At the mention of her brother, Margaery’s eyes immediately reddened.
Her fists clenched.
“Doing well?” She looked ready to strike someone.
“I just came from his tent.
He’s still unconscious.
We don’t even know whether he’ll survive an infection.” While everyone else remained deeply worried, William genuinely believed Garlan would recover.
As long as Garlan survived the immediate danger, everything else could be fixed.
Especially now.
Especially after what he had discovered through Margaery.
The experience of awakening her magic before their departure had convinced him of one thing beyond any doubt.
Together, they could heal Garlan.
His injuries were insignificant before the power they could wield.
“Relax.” William offered a reassuring smile.
“I told you before.” “Miracles.” His eyes flicked toward the three Tyrell girls lingering behind Margaery.
Margaery took a deep breath.
Slowly exhaled.
Her clenched fists loosened.
Then she turned toward her companions.
The girls exchanged glances.
One by one, smiles appeared.
Without a word, they retreated from the tent.
Their steps were suspiciously light.
Just before leaving, Alynne even stuck her tongue out at William.
The flap closed behind them.
Since returning to camp, William had noticed something.
Everyone looked at him differently now.
Everyone except Margaery.
The moment they were alone, she crossed the distance between them.
Her voice dropped.
“Your miracle nearly got my brother killed.” The words were quiet.
The anger behind them was not.
William suddenly felt very uncomfortable.
“I didn’t expect Garlan to come after me.
If it had only been me…” Margaery cut him off immediately.
“Only you?” She laughed bitterly.
“Then I wouldn’t be wasting my breath.
I’d be speaking to your corpse.” William had no response.
She was right.
Without Garlan, the Ironborn leader’s thrown axe might have killed him.
If anyone had finished him off while he was lost in that frenzy, his journey through Westeros would have ended right there.
“At least it worked out.” William scratched his cheek awkwardly.
“Garlan and I are both alive and we saved a lot of people.” “I don’t like that feeling.” Margaery’s reply was immediate.
Her voice softened.
“But it became even more serious.
No number of strangers could equal what Garlan means to me.” William looked at her.
Then, for reasons he didn’t fully understand, asked: “What about me?” A faint blush colored her cheeks.
But her answer came quickly.
“Are you foolish, ser?
How could you possibly compare yourself to Garlan?” Then she stood and turned away.
“No matter what happens…I don’t want to learn magic anymore.” William suddenly felt like crying.
I’ve worked this hard for what?
This isn’t fair!
Still, he refused to give up.
“Margaery.
Magic is just knowledge.
Or perhaps a skill.
Yes, it’s extraordinary.
But fundamentally it’s no different from swordsmanship, music, or painting.” She shook her head.
“I think it brings misfortune.
I touched it only briefly and I nearly lost my brother.” Her voice remained calm.
Steady.
Unmovable.
“Why did magic disappear from the world?
Perhaps people abandoned it for a reason.” William fell silent.
Several moments passed.
Then his eyes suddenly lit up.
“Fine.
If that’s how you feel, I won’t force you.” He spread his hands.
“But Garlan is still in danger.” His smile slowly returned.
“For Garlan’s sake…work with me one more time.” Margaery turned back.
Curiosity flickered in her eyes.
“I believe you now.
I know magic is real.
But why can’t you heal him yourself?
Why do you need me?” William immediately seized the opportunity.
Everyone possessed different talents.
That was true in magic as well.
“We each have different magical gifts.
My talents are focused on combat.
I can’t heal others.
But you…” He pointed gently toward her.
“Your gift is tied to life.
Do you remember the flower?
The spell that made it bloom?” Margaery nodded slowly.
“That power likely came from your ancestor, Garth Greenhand.
“The legendary magic of his bloodline.” Margaery fell into thought.
At that moment, voices sounded outside.
“Good afternoon, Ser Vernon.” It was Alynne.
“Lady Alynne.
Lady Megga.” An elderly man’s voice answered warmly.
The tent flap opened.
The old knight serving as their temporary physician entered alongside several servants.
After spotting Margaery, he bowed politely.
“Lady Margaery.
Ser Vernon.” She returned the greeting.
The old knight smiled.
Then glanced toward William.
“We need to remove Ser William’s armor and treat his wounds.” He coughed delicately.
“Would you mind giving us some privacy?” Margaery looked at William.
Her expression was impossible to read.
Complicated.
Thoughtful.
Then she smiled politely.
“Of course, ser.” Without another word, she turned and left the tent.
William watched her go and wondered whether he had managed to preserve even the smallest sliver of hope.
Or whether he had already lost it entirely.