-Chapter 182-

-POV Harwin Strong-

I watched Gunthor charge furiously toward Laenor, and just as I was about to intervene, I found myself deeply questioning everything.

'Is this really the best thing to do for me?'

Just an hour earlier, Rhaenyra had confided in me what Laenor was about to do, and how he planned to treat MY sons.

'If something were to happen to him... Rhaenyra wouldn't even need to handle the matter herself,' I thought, dodging a strike from a knight who had tried to attack me from behind, before slamming my elbow into him.

"Watch out!" I shouted, noticing that the knights from the Reach and the Stormlands were turning against us, realizing we were cutting off the Bronze knights who had pushed through the Crownlands knights' formation to reach Laenor.

"Fuck!" I shouted again, unleashing my fury as I brought my sword down on the shield of a knight wearing the colors of House Connington.

Internally, however, I was rather calm, since the opportunity to turn a blind eye to the assault on Laenor's forces suited me just fine.

I chose to focus on Borros Baratheon, who was charging through my men like a lion in a flock of sheep.

Seeing the Western knights ignore us and charge alongside Prince Aemon's forces, I breathed a sigh of relief.

And just as I was about to order my men into a defensive formation, Bryndon Hightower simply ignored us and flanked around.

'Is he stupid?' I thought. Watching his charge, it was obvious he was going to attack Laenor too.

But suddenly, I remembered yesterday's melee and understood what he intended to do.

'He wants to use the chaos to get revenge for yesterday and blame it on the Bronze knights.'

But how would he do it? That was still unclear.

Despite this obvious plan for revenge against Rhaenyra — which was convenient for us — it was clear that everyone would see who delivered the fatal blow.

'If Laenor were to die, Aemon would certainly kill the one who struck the final blow,' I thought, well aware — after all these years serving Rhaenyra — of the bond between Laenor and Laena Velaryon.

---

-POV Laenor Velaryon-

"PROTECT THE PRINCE!" shouted a knight of House Brune with fervor, blocking Bryndon Hightower's charge aimed at my back.

'You sons of bitches!' I screamed internally, realizing how completely we had been duped and betrayed by the Greens, who had turned against us and were now helping Aemon's faction to eliminate us in one swift strike.

'At least, eliminate me,' I thought, looking at Harwin, who had chosen not to intervene and was abandoning me.

I suppressed the resentment exploding inside me, then gave my orders:

"Tighten the formation around—"

I couldn't finish: Gunthor had already broken our formation and advanced like a bull, backed by the beast that had nearly killed me once before.

'Good thing I have quality armor,' I thought.

I knew perfectly well that this was the only reason I was still alive.

That armor had saved me from a potentially fatal fracture.

'Still, it didn't stop me from being injured,' I thought, feeling a sharp pain in my right arm — the one I usually fought with.

I turned my head, grabbed a hammer with my only working arm, determined to fight to the end.

'I'm no coward. I'll never surrender,' I thought, charging toward our enemies, determined to set an example.

---

-POV Laena Velaryon-

Seeing how fast Gunthor was moving, I gripped Aemon's hand tightly, and he turned to me and said:

"Don't worry. Gunthor knows he's your brother, he'll be reasonable."

"Unlike the beast you recruited?" I replied, letting some resentment slip into my voice, which shut Aemon up.

I knew him well enough to know that if he fell silent, it wasn't for lack of words, but because whatever he was thinking might upset or hurt me.

'And I know that because I think exactly like him,' I thought, internally lamenting my brother's stupidity, always supporting Rhaenyra.

'He never learns from his mistakes... Always driven by that damned pride... Just like Father.'

While my mind drifted, the fight hadn't stopped. The queen's brother was cutting through even faster now, with most of the defenses focused at the front.

And since Laenor had gone to try and stop our knights, it took him a little longer to come face-to-face with him and Gunthor.

The three men stared at each other for a moment — a moment that seemed endless — before they began to circle each other.

No one dared to intervene, forming an unspoken sacred circle.

Outside of it, except for the Western knights who weren't attacking us, everyone was striking at anyone they could in the chaotic melee.

'This has spiraled out of control way too fast,' I thought, noticing that the Crownlands knights were quickly losing ground.

Many of them were giving up, afraid of being seriously injured "by mistake."

"At this rate, we'll win this melee easily," said Aemon.

I hummed softly, my mind elsewhere.

I watched how hard it was for Laenor to defend himself with the hammer, forcing the former Hand's son to keep his distance, as did Gunthor, who was clearly going easy on my brother.

'Because he's my brother,' I thought, noting that unlike Bryndon Hightower — who aimed to hurt him seriously at every opening — he couldn't manage it because Gunthor kept aiming for his throat, forcing him to back away.

A few minutes passed, and the melee became less dense as many knights withdrew.

Across the arena, aside from the Bronze and Western knights, only a little more than thirty knights remained.

And once everyone realized it, an unspoken agreement seemed to unite them: they all turned against the Bronze knights.

---

-POV Gunthor Royce-

I frowned as I saw Borros Baratheon and Harwin Strong trying to attack our flank, defended by Jason Lannister.

'They're teaming up again,' I noted with irritation, as it ruined my strategy: let them wear each other out, then finish off the survivors.

If my duel with Bryndon Hightower had lasted so long, it wasn't because of his skill — though he was a fine swordsman — but because I didn't want to create too big a gap.

I preferred they exhaust themselves against each other, then sweep up the win.

I seized an opportunity: as he launched a frontal attack, I struck Bryndon with the pommel of my sword, catching him off guard.

Normally, I would've backed away from such an assault.

He staggered back a step, which allowed me to strike his sword with a sharp blow: it flew from his hands.

I then punched him hard, sending him to the ground.

He tried to get up, but I didn't give him the chance.

A brutal kick to the face knocked off his helmet, which flew across the sand.

As I was about to land the finishing blow — or at least knock him unconscious — Laenor charged me from the side.

I dodged his hammer, and just like with the queen's brother, I struck my Lady's brother in the jaw with the pommel of my sword, sending him crashing to the ground, dazed.

He spat blood onto the ground — I even saw a few teeth — then got back up, furious.

He tried to strike me again, but this time I didn't even take him seriously.

He was too dazed to find his balance.

I grabbed his raised arm and slammed my helmet into his nose with all my might, leaving him unconscious in the bloodstained sand of the arena.

I raised my sword and shouted with all my might, hoping to shock the surrounding knights and crush their morale by showing them their two captains had just been humiliated.

And that's exactly what happened: not only were they weakening, but my knights, galvanized by this double victory, were now fighting as swiftly and fiercely as if possessed by the Warrior himself.

I cast a quick glance at the unconscious young man who had tried to surprise me — even though I had spared him earlier — then turned away to assist my men in swiftly eliminating the last remaining knights who weren't ours.

'This is our victory.'