Game of Thrones: Paladin of Old Gods

POV: Bloody Snow;

Battlefield, Bear Island.

About two seconds after two ancestral blades collided for the first time...

Bloody Snow saw the second swift slash of a well-sharpened ax coming, lusting for his left arm.

He took advantage of his already defensive stance by simply stepping back, completely deflecting Red Rain, and dodging the blow.

It was his turn to attack...

He had already activated his breathing technique, his heart pumping blood at a rate three times faster and more intense than normal. Time had slowed down in the same way...

He gripped the black leather hilt of his long sword handle tightly and lunged, aiming for the pelvic joint covered only by a layer of scales.

Denys managed to intercept the blow, wedging Longclaw between his ax and bastard sword.

"WHOAAR!!!" Shouted Denys as he stamped all his strength into his arms in a double-cross slash.

Duncan let himself be carried away by that mighty thrust as he leaped backward. The boy flew almost five feet in length before landing firmly on the ground, his legs softening the repulsive thrust.

Denys used the momentum to advance and whirled up a storm of precise, powerful slashes.

Duncan concentrated on dodging, taking advantage of his superior agility.

The boy's every movement was fluid, precise, and well measured. He did not waste energy on useless efforts. If dodging a slash required at least a foot of movement in one direction, Duncan moved at most a foot and a thumb.

On the other hand, Denys spared no energy in his every move. A risky move for both...

Denys risked wasting too much stamina in a short period, while a single mistake by Bloody Snow resulted in a heavy injury at the very least.

Despite Denys wearing at least 30 kg of steel, he was fast. This showed that his muscular strength was much higher than an ordinary person.

Duncan inwardly praised his opponent...

The only openings Denys left in his fierce attack were on well-protected body parts. This showed that Denys knew his blind spots and cracks in his defense well.

In the first thirty seconds of the clash, the flow of the fight did not change. Denys continued a ferocious assault and Bloody Snow concentrated mostly on dodging and deflecting.

At the 32nd second, Duncan decided to test one of Denys' obvious traps.

The boy wielded his sword as if a grown man wielded a two-handed broadsword. He was still too short of build and height to wield it in the common ''one and a half hand'' style.

Bloody Snow began his counterattack, forcing the Dual Wielding-Warrior to defend himself for the first time.

Four fluid slashes clashed, one was parried by the ax and two by Red Rain. The last struck Denys' steel breastplate visibly scratching the polished steel, but the blade did not stop. Longclaw's sharp edge tried to slide like a snake towards Denys' face.

Denys was prepared, he dodged the slash by drawing his torso back, then with a double sideways slash, he moved Longclaw to the side and charged forward with his torso.

Although prepared for a counter-attack, Bloody Snow lightly impacted with the bull of muscle and steel and was thrown backward with a slight contusion to his shoulder and right side. Denys did not stop and went for a flat front kick to the boy's torso. And his foot hit the target in the chest. Even though he was hit, Bloody Snow went along with the backward thrust, dampening at least half the force of the impact.

The remaining half still managed to knock him backward, but he didn't panic. The boy somersaulted backward and landed with one knee on the ground.

Denys did not advance, he used the moment for a short pause...

"Not bad at all, boy.

You were an inch away from poking my eye out! Ahahah!!!

You're buzzing around me like a damn water dancer." Praised Denys in his way, smiling.

"Thanks, old man.

You should strike out as less forceful and have more regard for the poor kids of arms in search of guidance.

I may even get the mark of your boot on my chest tonight." Bloody Snow.

"Ahahaha, my boot print will be the least of your problems, Bloody Snow." Denys.

"Be that as it may, I have kept my word, Lord Denys.

The minute has already passed.

If it's not a problem for you, my Lord, I'd like to resume the fight. It would be foolish of me to allow you the luxury of catching your breath.... "Denys smiled in excitement at hearing those words.

"Yes... this is what I was looking for...

No surrender, no pity, no stupid, whiny 'Knight' complaints...haha, yes...a real fight for your life. There is nothing sweeter in this world, than to see that glint of life lost in the eyes of your opponent claiming your life and savouring his flesh with your own steel clutched in your hands...

STEP FORWARD DUNCAN OF HOUSE TALLHART! I CAN'T WAIT TO WIPE THAT CONFIDENT EXPRESSION OFF YOUR PRETTY FACE!" Denys charged forward, grinning like a madman.

Both fighters were immune to the shouts and cheers that hovered around them.

Denys and Duncan, were locked in their own bubble, their world.

Nothing existed around them but the opponent in front of them. Every bit of concentration was focused on the [Here and now], nothing else mattered.

That world, once again, was dynamic and deadly.

End POV.

----------------------------------------------------

POV: Denys Drumm;

Battlefield, Bear Island.

About a second after the second round began...

Denys The Bloodthirsty used his dominant right arm, wielding Red Rain, to deliver a long, powerful, diagonal blow.

The sword only sliced through the air and planted itself in the mud, as he had intended.

He had not used full force in that blow, he had saved himself to attempt a second slash towards the legs.

The target was his opponent's forward left foot.

To Denys' surprise, the foot not only rose to dodge the sharp sweep but headed straight for his face.

The leg had extended in an almost unnatural way, snapping like a viper's bite. Denys, who was always prepared for blows to his only vulnerable body part, narrowly managed to dodge the kick, even though much of the blow crawled across his cheek and ear, tearing them apart as the leather friction on his skin.

But Denys was not distracted by the slight, burning pain; his instincts were screaming at him that this was not the real danger.

No...

Not only had his adversary performed a powerful kick, but the contortionist, using the support of his foot on his right shoulder, leaped backward in a somersault in mid-air and struck a dangerous blow with his one-handed sword. The blade was aimed at Denys' throat.

The warrior used all his strength in his torso and neck to propel himself backward, trying to draw his blades back as quickly as possible.

A light sting struck the retreating man's chin.

Longclaw's point had managed to claim the first blood of the clash. Denys' chin was leaking warm fluids and a burning sensation was growing.

Denys was furious.

He delivered a double guillotine blow to the torso of his newly landed opponent. The boy, already bent down, lay completely flat on the ground and spun around, attempting the same initial target as Denys.

Denys managed to plant his ax in the ground thus protecting his left foot, and cleaved a downward blow with Red Rain, but Bloody Snow rolled on the ground causing the warrior to hit nothing but the muddy ground.

"Slip away like an eel, you bastard!" Denys roared involuntarily.

The boy took advantage of his opponent's anger to make a fierce counterattack. Four blows identical to a minute ago...

Denys' muscle memory took over, and he parried the attacks almost identically to a minute ago...

The fourth blow, an angled lunge, struck the pectoral as it did a minute ago...

Every neuron and bundle of nerves in Denys' body screamed at the man that the blade would be heading for his face again.

Denys didn't panic, and not only moved his head like last time but simultaneously attempted a counterattack with Red Rain.

"Phew, slishh.", "Choph!"...

Red Rain had hit the target, Denys could feel it from the vibration of the handle transmitted to his wrist, but something was wrong...

The weight on his left hand was strangely lighter.

Backing away two steps, Denys realized what had happened.

The man had managed to graze part of his opponent's side, tearing his armor profusely. A slight trace of blood was present on Red Rain; he had managed to injure his opponent, albeit slightly...

However, Bloody Snow's target was not his face, but Denys' ax.

Denys' faithful ax, his faithful companion for over five years, had been completely decapitated, leaving only a handle and a foot of wooden shaft...

Denys had lost one of his weapons.

"And one down.

I think you need to change your fighting style, my lord." Bloody Snow.

"... Don't sing victory boy.

The price you had to pay for this achievement will cost you more than you earned." Denys.

"What price?" The boy replied, touching his left side.

A faint green glow spread from his hand.

The light was absorbed by the cut on his studded armor.

"What sorcery is this?" Roared an incredulous Denys.

The boy looked refurbished.

"A small one, my lord...

I'd say it's time to try a bigger one.

... [Bless]... " Recited the boy.

A light, almost imperceptible green halo spread across his body, making the figure sharper and brighter than before.

"Are you a lousy wizard, boy?!" Denys asked contemptuously. The man was more enraged than ever...

He hated everything he couldn't understand.

"Not really, my lord.

Let's just say I'm 'blessed'." As soon as he finished saying the last word, Bloody Snow charged furiously forward.

The real fight to the death was about to begin.

End POV.

-------------------------------------------------

POV: Duncan;

Battlefield, Bear Island.

About three seconds after round three began...

I could feel it...

That magical, symbiotic feeling flowed through me.

I had experienced this first-level spell before, but in a real-life or death situation, the effect seemed amplified several times over.

It was as if, after swimming for more than an hour in the middle of the ocean, suddenly an inflated life preserver appeared to help you stay afloat...

The connection with Longoclaw was stronger than ever. Even the sword seemed to be alive and enthusiastic with the buff it had just thrown.

I could feel it, I could be more precise and fluid with my movements. As if Zick himself was showing me how to move correctly. A swordmaster asked me to repeat his movements.

The effect would only last a minute and I had to make the most of it. I knew it would take Denys a few seconds to get used to his new fighting style and I had to take advantage of this double benefit.

I charged forward, starting with a horizontal slash from bottom to top. The blow only hit a clump of Denys' hair, which he deflected with an almost inaccurate parry.

My opponent was beginning to wield Red Rain in the common one-and-a-half-handed style.

I didn't give him a moment's respite...

Another slash from the side, one from above, two consecutive diagonal slashes, and a lunge that left a groove in the metal covering my belly.

Another strange and unexpected sensation materialized...

The clashing of the two Valyrian metals generated a metallic melody similar to idiophonic instruments.

It was as if the two swords were communicating with each other.

Denys was improving his style more and more...

'He too hears that symphony...

He too feels that peace and serenity that I'm also feeling.

A magical feeling... ' I thought noticing Denys' look more focused and relaxed than ever.

All his anger and insecurity had left the man's movements.

A tornado of fluid and gentle wind, made of sword strokes and sparks, surrounded us.

The sensation was intoxicating, exciting, and addictive.

The best drug in the world.

The best game in the world, the best art we could express.

Every swing of the sword did nothing but encourage a smile on my lips.

Denys was smiling too...

This was the true art of fencing.

An art that deserved respect, care, and devotion.

We were both having a great time. I hoped the feeling would never end.

Observing the flow, I noticed a flaw in this dance.

Both Denys and I were holding back.

A minute ago we were brandishing our weapons with the intent to kill. But now... we were trading blows as if we were taking part in friendly sparring.

I had no idea how much time had passed...

Only the blessing effect confirmed that the dance had been going on for less than a minute.

To my deep sadness and regret, I decided to change that flow... but first, out of respect for my sparring partner, I warned him by slightly increasing the force of the blows.

Denys seemed to get the message, even his smile faded and his expression began to express slight sadness.

We both looked into each other's eyes and gave each other a look of understanding.

Our blows became fiercer and more aggressive.

The melody of the clangor of steel also changed its tune. It was a darker and more somber melody...

It was only then that my perception, focused on the flow, detected small cracks in Denys' movements.

The hesitation no longer held back... I was back on my feet.

I could feel the superiority in my movements. Red Rain could not withstand that imbalance of precision.

After deflecting a side slash, I counterattacked, aiming for the protective scales on Denys' left armpit...

The blow went in.

A tiny splash of blood, probably from a severed vein, came from the small, clean gash in Denys's armor.

The man held back a groan of pain and continued undaunted in his offensive.

But it was no use...

By now I was reading Denys' stream as if it were my favorite book. His every feint and countermove became predictable.

The blessing effect wore off... but it didn't matter.

I knew my enemy and I knew myself... my victory was all but certain.

After another ten or so exchanges, he managed to inflict another cut on the man's left elbow.

Denys seemed to be starting to feel the effects of those wounds.

With each exchange, a small crack appeared in Denys' stream.

Now I was free to choose where to strike...

I inflicted the third wound on his right eyebrow. A copious cascade of blood blinded his right eye.

Denys seemed to have realized his destiny, but he didn't seem afraid. He continued without hesitation to give his best...

A true warrior. I thought with deep respect for my opponent.

I saw Denys making strange, indecisive movements with his right hand.

I knew what he wanted to do.

Master Ramas had tried a similar move hundreds of times.

After two more blows, Denys grabbed a dagger from its sheath and tried to throw it at me by surprise.

I easily managed to avoid him.

Denys did not let his failure get him down and continued his charge.

After a few more exchanges, at least an inch of Longclaw managed to penetrate between the cracks in Denys's torso and right thigh guard. The blade probably touched a bone.

"Gnngrrdg..." The man couldn't hold back a small bellow of pain. He had to change his guard position by shifting his weight to the opposite leg.

After another dozen blows, a heavy cut on Denys' wrist forced him to hold Red Rain with one hand...

I decided it was time to put the man out of his misery.

It was time to inflict a fatal and definitive wound.

I knew where, when, and with what to strike...

I activated my second innate Paladin class skill.

[ Divine Smite ]

Radiant energy was absorbed by Longclaw, who began to glow with bright green hues.

I charged sideways at my opponent's defenseless side, delivering a precise, hard and merciless side slash into his side...

"Sflussshh!!! " The blow was so effective that not even the metallic sound of the two contrasting metals could be heard.

Almost one of Longclaw's feet cleaved Denys' torso... the spinal column was probably damaged as well.

Denys managed not to utter a breath from the damage.

He simply touched his side, lowering his gaze slightly to be sure of his fate.

Fresh blood began to drip from his mouth.

In an incredibly epic gesture, Denys, instead of collapsing to the ground, managed to rest on both knees...

The man looked for my gaze and found it.

He gave a simple, bloody, thirty-two-tooth smile, trying to express with his eyes what I thought was a thank you.

I stepped quickly in front of him and pointed my sword at the heart section.

As soon as I perceived a nod of agreement from the man, I plunged the blade deeply into his chest, putting him out of his misery.

The body remained upright for another two seconds... then the light left Denys Drumm's eyes as he slumped to the side in a frail, helpless pose.

After a slight thud broke the bubble isolating me and my former adversary, I noticed that no one in the whole square was making a sound.

They all seemed enchanted by every movement I made.

First I slumped down next to Denys' body and gently closed the lids of his glassy eyes.

I didn't have the Longclaw case with me, so I decided to stab it straight into the ground.

Then I picked up the red-bladed sword less than a foot from the corpse, and slowly approached the 2,100 motionless ironmen less than 100 feet from me.

When I reached a distance of 50 feet from the first line of marauders, I shouted in a loud voice:

"ADMIRAL LORD DENYS DRUMM HAS FALLEN FIGHTING BRAVELY.

I WANT AT LEAST FOUR OF YOU TO GO AND COLLECT HIS REMAINS AND BE IN CHARGE OF WATCHING OVER HIS BODY.

LORD DUSTAN DRUMM, HE SHALL HAVE HIS SON'S BODY BACK WITH ALL THE HONOURS IT DESERVES." After a few seconds of hesitation, four unarmed men, probably members of Denys' crew, stepped forward towards the body of their captain and lord.

After a few more moments of silence I said loudly:

"THE REMAINING 1,900 BODIES OF YOUR COMRADES WILL NOT BE ACCORDED THIS HONOUR... THEY BELONG TO THE NORTH FROM NOW ON." Then I raised Red Rain to the sky for all to see.

"THIS NOW BELONGS TO ME!

IF LORD DRUMM WANTS IT BACK, HE'S GOING TO HAVE TO COME TO ME AND PAY THE IRON PRICE FOR IT...

AS AGREED BETWEEN MYSELF AND YOUR ADMIRAL...

467 OF YOU RESPONSIBLE FOR THE DEATH AND SUFFERING OF THE NORTHERN PEOPLE WILL BE EXECUTED...

EACH OF THOSE CONDEMNED WILL BE GIVEN THE CHOICE OF HOW THEY DIE. YOU MAY BE HANGED, BEHEADED, OR EVEN DROWNED. AN HONOR YOU HAVE NOT BESTOWED UPON YOUR VICTIMS.

467 OTHERS WILL BE CASTRATED AND TAKEN TO THE LANDS OF HOUSE TALLHART...

YOU WILL WORK IN THE MINES AS 'THRALL OF THE NORTH' UNTIL YOUR LABOUR PAYS FOR THE DAMAGE DONE TO THIS ISLAND.

EACH OF YOU WILL BE GUARANTEED A BED AND A ROOF OVER YOUR HEADS, TREATMENT IN CASE OF INJURY OR ILLNESS, AND THREE HOT MEALS A DAY. WHEN THE DEBT IS REPAID, YOU CAN CHOOSE TO STAY AND WORK FOR US OR RETURN TO YOUR HOMES...

ANOTHER 467 WILL JOIN THE NIGHT WATCHMEN FOR THE REST OF THEIR DAYS... YOU CAN VOLUNTEER OR DECIDE AMONGST YOURSELVES WHO WILL GO TO THE MINE OR WHO WILL GO TO THE WALL.

THE REMAINING YOUNGEST AMONG YOU MAY RETURN HOME WITH TWELVE LONGSHIPS.

DO ANY OF YOU OBJECT TO THIS?!?" I shouted the last sentence like a battle roar.

I continued with the same ferocity to ask:

"DOES ANYONE HAVE ANY COMPLAINTS ABOUT THE FATE THAT AWAITS EACH OF YOU?!?!

IF ANYONE HAS, NOW IS THE TIME TO COME FORWARD!!!

NOW!!!

...

ISN'T THERE ANYONE ELSE WHO WANTS TO TASTE THE 'PRICE OF BLOOD'?!!!!"

The gaze of many was still downcast, others were lost in the void.

I noticed a few still gripping the handles of their weapons tightly, trying to decide whether to try their luck or not.

Lost in my excitement, I failed to notice that the northern army had advanced the same distance I had traveled.

After a few more seconds, a man in his fifties stepped forward. He appeared to be a captain.

The ironman slowly drew his sword... and then threw it to the ground in submission.

Dozens of men copied his gesture until a cacophony of heavy, metallic instruments spread through the air.

Over 2,000 weapons and shields were thrown onto the ground...

"Well...

You! Step forward." I said to a boy not even twenty years old with terror in his eyes.

The boy took the requested step.

"I want your cape... It is no longer yours from this moment on." The boy hesitated for a few seconds, then did as requested.

He took off the piece of cloth he had looted from who knows where and placed it at my feet.

I picked up the brown cloth and used it to clean the blade.

Then I turned and headed for Longclaw.

Denys's body had already been transported to the enemy camp.

I carefully jammed Red Rain into my belt and then retrieved Longclaw, trying to clean the blade as best I could.

Over 3,000 northerners watched me every move in silence.

My uncle had laid out two lines of archers ready in case of trouble.

I found my first target and headed towards Lord Jorah.

After a few seconds, I said to the man as I returned the sword that did not belong to me:

"Thank you, my lord.

A beautiful weapon, I hope your House will guard it carefully for all generations to come."

"My honor, my lord...

Thank you." Said Jorah picking up the blade with both palms upwards.

After returning what needed to be returned, I headed towards my fellow Guardians.

All the Northmen stepped aside leaving me the path clear and as they did so they removed their helmets bowing in respect.

An empty circle of twenty feet radius was created with hundreds of gazes pointing towards the origin of it.

I looked around and realized that the men were waiting for some word from me...

There was only one thing I could say at that moment.

I slowly pulled out Red Rain with my right hand and raised it to the sky.

I said the only sentence that came to mind at the time....

"The battle is over... THE NORTH HAS WON!"