Chapter 197 — Fire Against Fire!!!
"Just as I thought… the power of my Lord…"
"…has returned."
High atop the tower, the red-robed priestess murmured hoarsely, her voice barely more than a whisper.
She clutched the frozen stone wall beside the window. Violent winds whipped her flame-red hair into a frenzy, yet she seemed completely oblivious to the biting cold.
At her throat, the massive ruby set in her necklace pulsed with a strange rhythm—like the beating heart of a living creature.
Compared to her near-lifeless state moments earlier, she had recovered considerably. Aside from her still pale complexion, she appeared mostly restored.
Her crimson eyes locked onto the battlefield below.
Watching the blazing figure swinging a hammer in the arena, fanatic devotion filled her gaze.
The power of the King had wrapped Robert completely, transforming him into a roaring giant of fire nearly ten feet tall.
How long had it been?
Her heart churned violently.
A hundred years?
Perhaps longer?
At some point in the distant past, no matter how many sacrifices she offered upon the altar, no matter how fervently she prayed day and night, no matter how brightly the sacred fire burned—
The great R'hllor had fallen silent.
Not a single clear revelation.
Not a whisper of divine response.
It was as if an invisible gate had slammed shut, severing the world from the Lord of Light.
Eventually, Melisandre came to understand the truth.
The streams of magic had nearly dried up.
The miracles of gods had withdrawn from the mortal world.
Devout believers like her could only continue praying in vain.
And as one chosen by the King—
All she had left was the ruby necklace around her throat.
Like the final firefly flickering in endless darkness, it continued burning, resisting the erosion of time and sustaining her fragile existence.
It was the last thread connecting her to that lost glory.
And now—
For the first time in over a century—
She had invoked true magic again.
The price…
Was the unborn life within her womb.
Fortunately, she had not forgotten how.
"Flesh of mortals cannot resist the power of my Lord!!"
Melisandre whispered feverishly, eyes blazing with fanatic excitement as she watched the battlefield below.
The white-armored knight had already been smashed from his horse.
Yes!
The power of the Lord had revealed itself!
That raging giant of flame was delivering the divine might of R'hllor in the most primitive and unstoppable way imaginable—hammering relentlessly at the white knight upon his mount.
Lance Lot.
The unparalleled swordsmanship that once made the Seven Kingdoms bow in awe—
Even that could only respond passively under such overwhelming force.
Until at last…
The flaming hammer knocked him from his horse.
"A mere mortal…"
"A variable…"
Suddenly—
The fanaticism in Melisandre's eyes froze.
Then shattered into disbelief.
"Impossible!"
"Absolutely impossible!!!"
Her scream tore through the tower as she watched the white knight's blade ignite.
The flames upon that sword burned hotter and brighter than the magic she had summoned at the cost of life and blood.
"That power…!"
"That is the power of my Lord!"
"No… not only my Lord… that is…"
"The legendary hero—"
"Azor Ahai!!!"
"My heart… my heart…"
---
The moment the blade ignited, a certain battle theme began playing in Lance's mind.
Not that it really matched the scene.
Ahead of him, the blazing Robert raised his warhammer once again.
Lance grinned and gripped his greatsword with both hands.
"Phase two…"
"…begin."
Before the words had fully faded, the flaming hammer crashed down again.
Under countless watching eyes, the burning hammer and blazing greatsword collided once more.
At the instant of impact—
A visible shockwave exploded outward from the two men.
The blast swept across the snowy plain before Storm's End.
Thick layers of snow on the ground surged upward like a storm tide.
Even the snow along the castle walls collapsed in roaring cascades, clouds of powder exploding into the air.
Then—
The scorching heat radiating from the two combatants turned the swirling snow into drifting vapor.
When the mist finally cleared—
A massive ring of dry, dark earth had appeared on the snowy field, centered on the two fighters.
The snow had been vaporized instantly.
Only after that brief stunned silence did the onlookers recover their senses.
"He blocked it!!!"
Ser Balman Byrch shouted hoarsely, nearly tearing his throat apart.
His knuckles were white around the reins, his entire body rigid with tension. Despite the freezing weather, sweat beaded along his temples.
When the tension finally broke, dizziness nearly overtook him.
"I knew it… I knew it!!!"
Even so, he whipped his head toward the equally stunned Lord Leonno Selmy beside him.
"Did you see that?! Selmy, did you see it?!"
"That's the Regent!"
"That's His Majesty Lance Lot!"
"He is FEARLESS!!!"
"ROOOAAARR!!!"
The cry ignited the army.
Following Balman's lead, the eight hundred knights erupted.
All their tension and worry vanished, replaced by overwhelming reverence and devotion.
"RE-GENT!!!"
Fists hammered against breastplates as the knights roared in unison.
"Fearless!"
"Fearless!!!"
The thunderous chant of eight hundred knights shook the battlefield.
For a moment, even the Stormlands lords felt their breathing falter.
It was too shocking.
Their eyes widened, pupils reflecting the two blazing infernos clashing at the battlefield's center.
Most of them had heard tales of Lance Lot before.
But hearing stories was one thing.
Believing them was another.
Like the heroic songs sung by bards in taverns—grand, distant, exaggerated.
Who would take them seriously?
Well…
Except Sebastian.
Yet even he stared in utter awe.
He had seen those terrifying flames once before at Fallenwood.
But witnessing two such infernos collide before his very eyes—
The impact on both vision and soul was beyond words.
Fire against fire.
Seven hells… who were they to witness such a battle in their lifetime?
This wasn't a legend in dusty books.
It was real.
Right before them.
To witness such a miracle—
Even dying afterward…
Well.
Perhaps not dying just yet.
But it was worth it.
At the center of the battlefield, flames continued to roar.
"Tch…"
A clear voice broke the momentary silence.
"Not much strength there, Robert Baratheon."
Lance stood clad in white armor now scorched by fire, yet not a single strand of his hair had burned.
Under the blazing glow of the flames, Lance's sharply defined face slowly curled into a smile. Within his deep blue eyes, two even purer, more fervent golden flames began to rise.
The muscles across his entire body trembled faintly—not from fear, but from exhilaration.
It was the thrill of a hunter encountering powerful prey.
The ultimate joy of meeting a worthy opponent.
Battle… how exhilarating!
His gaze locked firmly onto the flaming warhammer crashing toward him. Through his arms he could clearly feel the overwhelming force surging forward.
Robert had always been renowned for his strength—but the power he displayed now had reached an utterly terrifying level.
Even with Lance drawing upon the vast divine power associated with the legendary hero Azor Ahai, he still could not gain an absolute advantage.
Ah.
Right.
His synchronization rate was only forty percent.
"Ha… hahahaha…"
A laugh of excitement burst from his throat. It was not loud, yet to the towering giant of fire it felt more insulting than any taunt.
"ROOOAAARR!!!"
Robert roared in fury, lifting the flaming warhammer once again and smashing it down toward Lance's head.
Seeing the immense hammer descend again, Lance did not retreat in the slightest.
Instead, his fighting spirit ignited completely.
BOOM!!!
No redirection of force.
No evasive maneuver.
The white flames of Dawn clashed head-on with the crimson blaze of the hammer once again.
The shockwave was so violent that all the spectators on both sides staggered backward involuntarily.
Blinding light burst outward like a tangible wall, forcing many to raise their arms to shield their eyes.
At the center of that blazing collision, the two towering figures remained utterly unmoved under the crushing pressure of their power.
The scorched ground beneath their feet cracked like a spider's web, collapsing under the strain of the two supernatural forces.
But Lance's footing remained immovable as a mountain.
Even Robert's flaming form seemed to falter for a brief instant, stunned by the unexpected resistance.
Within the blazing eyes of the fire giant flickered a trace of distinctly human shock.
"I told you…"
The teasing smile on Lance's face widened as the muscles in his arms bulged to their limit around the massive sword.
"You've got no strength."
The moment the words fell—
A surge of white-gold flames erupted from Dawn like a volcanic explosion, instantly overwhelming the red fire around the hammer.
Then, before everyone's eyes, the white-armored knight suddenly lifted his arms upward.
Pure, brutal strength exploded forth.
The enormous flaming warhammer was forced upward nearly half a foot—along with Robert's entire arm.
A fleeting opening.
But a deadly one.
"ROOOAAARR!!"
The massive flaming body staggered backward from the sudden counterforce. To keep his balance, Robert's center of gravity shifted uncontrollably.
Yet he roared defiantly and tried to swing the hammer again with both hands.
But anyone could see it clearly now—
After that clash…
The momentum had changed.
Before the stunned eyes of everyone watching, the white-armored knight moved.
His motion was so fast it nearly exceeded human perception.
In the instant after knocking the hammer aside, he swung Dawn in a blur—like a hurricane of white-gold flame.
A cascade of explosive impacts rang out in rapid succession.
The sound resembled hundreds of master blacksmiths hammering red-hot iron simultaneously.
Sparks and fragments of blazing white flame scattered everywhere.
Even with Brynden's seasoned experience and full concentration, he could only roughly estimate that Lance had swung dozens of strikes within a single instant—a speed beyond the limits of human physiology.
Under such relentless assault, Robert's massive body struggled to keep up.
His hammer began to slow.
Lance seized the opening immediately.
With a powerful kick against the ground, snow exploded beneath his boots as he lunged forward, both hands gripping the enormous blade as spiraling flames surged along its edge.
SHUNK!
The razor-sharp pale blade pierced straight into Robert's exposed chest, punching through his back by nearly half a foot.
Yet something strange happened.
Instead of blood, what erupted from the wound was a molten substance like liquid magma, splattering onto the snow and instantly vaporizing it into clouds of steam.
"URRRAAAGH!!!"
The flaming giant roared in fury.
Even with his heart pierced, he did not fall.
Instead he swung the blazing hammer downward at Lance from point-blank range.
The air itself warped under the intense heat around the weapon.
"Hmph!"
Lance snorted coldly.
He had expected as much.
In a flash, his hands twisted the sword clockwise.
The wound tore open several times wider, molten gold-red substance bursting outward.
But Lance did not stop there.
Using the torque of the twisting blade, his waist spun violently, dragging the sword upward in a brutal rising slash.
The blade tore through the air and struck Robert's fully exposed arm with deadly precision.
The unstoppable edge severed tendon and bone alike.
The massive arm gripping the flaming hammer crashed heavily to the ground.
THUD!
Lance followed with a kick to Robert's chest.
The impact sent the fire giant stumbling backward.
The burning warhammer rolled across the frozen ground and landed near Lance's feet.
The flames upon it did not fade with its owner's fall.
Instead they flickered stubbornly, still alive.
Lance leaned slightly on his sword, breathing faintly.
Looking down at the still-burning hammer, he felt the familiar pulse of power emanating from its flames.
So it really was you.
"Heh…"
A mocking chuckle escaped his throat.
Then—
Before the astonished gaze of everyone present—
Lance did something utterly shocking.
He hooked the hammer upward with the toe of his armored boot, launching the massive weapon into the air.
Then he swung Dawn.
The broad blade struck the hammer like a bat.
With a ringing metallic crash, the weapon arced gracefully through the air and landed neatly beside Robert's remaining hand.
The flame-covered hand trembled—
Then gripped the scorching haft once again.
The weakened flames around Robert suddenly surged back to life.
Within the burning eyes, a trace of clarity returned.
He could feel the power of the flames devouring his life as fuel, squeezing out the last remnants of his essence.
"Lance… Lance Lot…!!!"
The roar that came from his throat was far hoarser and weaker than before—
Yet far more desperate.
This time it had nothing to do with honor.
Or war.
Or power.
Or conspiracy.
Nor even personal hatred.
It was simply the ancient law of the wild.
The final cry of a wounded beast.
The victor lives.
The defeated… dies.
His burning head turned slowly.
Flaming eyes locked onto the white figure ahead.
His chest heaved violently.
Each word fell heavy and scorching.
"This… is… the… last… one!!!"
The cold wind swept across the battlefield ruins stained with fire and blood.
The white-armored knight stood silently.
His tattered cloak snapped wildly in the gale.
He did not answer Robert's life-or-death challenge.
Instead, he lowered his gaze slightly.
His eyes fell upon the pale blade named Dawn.
The tip pointed downward, melting away mud and snow upon its surface with faint sizzling sounds.
"Are you testing my strength?"
"Or do you simply want to oppose me?"
Lance murmured softly.
Then he shook his head.
"Doesn't matter."
His arms rose slowly and firmly.
Within his deep blue eyes there was no rage.
No cruelty.
Not even pity.
Only a calm, detached indifference toward the world.
A blazing power surged from the deepest core of his body, like an ancient god awakening.
The pale blade suddenly erupted with a brilliance brighter than the sun.
The flames no longer merely clung to the sword.
They condensed—compressed to the extreme.
The air warped violently under the heat.
"Domoksalamor… ah, forget it."
Before everyone's eyes, Lance raised the massive sword high above his head and planted it vertically before him.
The spine of the blade aligned with his brow.
The tip pointed toward the heavens.
"You want to see it?"
"Then open your eyes and watch carefully."
His voice turned ice-cold.
The sword began to hum with a deep, ancient resonance.
Every eye on the battlefield—
Terrified Stormlands lords.
Reverent Crownlands knights.
Even the red-robed figure watching from the tower.
All were irresistibly drawn to that overwhelming brilliance.
Across from him, the wounded fire giant straightened painfully.
His remaining hand gripped the hammer tightly, burning his final will and life essence as sacrifice.
The flames around the weapon surged to their absolute limit, shrieking like something dying.
And opposite him—
The white knight.
Eyes calm as the abyss.
Muscles bulging beneath his armor.
The greatsword Dawn descended with all his power.
Every witness trembled before the impending collision.
Fire against fire.
Heat against heat.
Within ten paces, snow, dust—even the frozen ground itself—instantly evaporated and scorched away.
In the deathly silence of that suspended moment—
One low, clear voice reached everyone's ears.
"Purification…"
"Mark of Dawn!"
"SLASH!!!"