"Petyr Baelish?!"
A gasp that couldn't be suppressed instantly ignited the entire Moon Gate Garden.
"Impossible!"
"I saw his head with my own eyes!"
"It's a ghost! Seven Gods above, it's a revenant!"
Panic spread wildly through the crowd like a plague.
The Lords and soldiers of the Vale, who had just been trembling under the pressure of the giant dragon, now looked at "Littlefinger" with more fear than they would feel seeing Winter.
To them, a giant dragon was a mythical magical creature, a distant yet powerful force.
But Petyr Baelish was a living, breathing "acquaintance" right beside them.
A dead man was now standing alive right in front of them.
This visual shock was far more bizarre and terrifying than any magic.
Ser Marq Arryn's already pale face was now completely drained of color.
He stared intently at the face bearing a hint of playful amusement, feeling his sanity being shredded piece by piece.
Lynn ignored the commotion around him.
He simply walked unhurriedly over to the masked Other, affectionately patting his shoulder as if greeting an old friend he hadn't seen in years.
"Petyr, my friend."
"It seems these Lords of the Vale have almost forgotten you."
"They also forgot how much you and Lady Lysa sacrificed for the 'honor' of the House Arryn."
The Other, or rather, "Petyr Baelish," slowly turned around.
His gray-green eyes swept over all the horrified faces present, and the corner of his mouth curled up, revealing a perfectly measured smile that was both friendly and chilling.
"How could they forget?"
His voice was exactly Littlefinger's slightly hoarse and magnetic tone.
"I did so much for the Vale, for my dearest Lysa, how could they forget?"
"It was I,"
He extended a finger and lightly tapped his chest, the gesture elegant yet full of a certain morbid boastfulness.
"Who suggested to Lysa that she add a little Tears of Lys to the wine of her husband, our respected former Hand of the King, Jon Arryn."
"He was old and frail; I merely wanted to help him find release sooner."
Boom!
A single sentence exploded like thunder in the minds of all the Lords of the Vale!
Ser Marq Arryn's body swayed violently, and he nearly collapsed.
"Y-you said what?!"
"The Hand of the King... you killed him?!"
"Of course."
"Littlefinger's" face showed an expression of utter certainty.
"What else? Did you think the golden-haired lions of House Lannister had the guts to poison a Hand of the King in King's Landing?"
"And that letter,"
He seemed lost in a sweet memory, his eyes becoming hazy.
"The letter my dearest Lysa wrote to Catelyn, every single word was dictated by me."
"'The Lannisters did it,' hahaha... such a simple, yet effective sentence."
"Just one sentence, one lie, was enough to make everyone tear each other apart, enough to plunge all of Westeros into war."
"And my dearest Lysa could naturally seize all the power for herself in the name of protecting the Vale."
"Littlefinger" spread his hands, his face showing a sickening blend of innocence and sincerity.
The entire Moon Gate Garden fell into a deathly silence.
Only Winter occasionally emitted a rumble like distant thunder from its throat.
All the Lords of the Vale present were motionless, as if struck by a petrification spell.
Lysa's obsession with Littlefinger was not hard to notice, and no one present was a fool.
If Lysa held power, she would certainly pave the way for Littlefinger; the entire Vale would become Petyr's private garden.
Their minds were completely scrambled.
But everyone had a strong intuition.
This matter—it was true!
The truth.
This was the truth of the war!
They had always believed they were answering Lady Lysa's call to defend the independence and honor of the Vale.
But now, this man who had crawled back from hell told them in the most understated tone:
All of this, from beginning to end, was just a deception!
A vicious and filthy conspiracy concocted jointly by their most respected Lady Lysa and her contemptible lover!
Their wars, their sacrifices, their sons, brothers, and fathers who were about to die... all became a joke!
"No... you're lying!"
A young knight finally couldn't bear the immense shock and screamed in breakdown.
"You demon who crawled out of hell! You are spreading malicious lies!"
The smile on "Littlefinger's" face grew wider.
"I am not lying."
He turned around and bowed respectfully to Lynn.
"My Lord, you see, I have told them everything."
Lynn nodded in satisfaction.
This was the effect he wanted.
He wanted to personally tear apart the legitimacy of Lysa Arryn's rule.
And to make the entire Vale see clearly.
What kind of mad and foolish woman they were following!
"Now,"
Lynn's gaze fell upon Ser Marq Arryn.
"I believe there are no misunderstandings between us anymore."
"I came here for only one thing."
Lynn's voice was calm, yet carried undeniable authority.
"I need to borrow your Lord, Robert Arryn, for a period of time."
"Hand him over to me."
"I am not here for conquest, and certainly not for slaughter."
"I only need to take him back to Winterfell, let him receive the guidance of Ned Stark, and let him learn how to become a true guardian, not a giant baby spoiled by his mother."
"Hand him over to me, and I will leave immediately."
"The Eyrie will be completely unharmed."
This was Lynn's ultimate goal.
Relying on the display of his formidable military strength, he aimed for a different kind of victory without battle.
Mobilizing a large army to tie down the main forces of the Vale and The Riverlands was only to ensure they behaved themselves during wartime, preventing them from looting and massacring the common people of the North.
Lynn did not want the same tragedy to unfold again in another world.
Lynn's words were like a decree of amnesty, rekindling a spark of hope in the eyes of many desperate lords.
Just hand over Robert Arryn?
But that was the only bloodline of the House Arryn!
It was the future of the entire Vale!
Just as the expressions of the crowd varied.
"Never!"
An old yet resolute voice rang out from the back of the crowd.
An old knight, clad in heavy armor with a white beard, emerged from the crowd, leaning on a massive two-handed sword.
On his armor was the sea anchor sigil of House Grafton.
The Earl of Gulltown, Glandy Grafton.
An old general known throughout the Vale for his stubbornness and bravery.
"Lord Lynn,"
The old knight's gaze held no fear.
He looked directly into Lynn's eyes, then glanced at the terrifying giant dragon behind him.
"You may be strong, and your dragon is indeed unbeatable."
"But the honor of the Vale shall not be defiled!"
"You used a giant dragon to crush our will."
"But you cannot destroy our knightly spirit!"
The old knight plunged the greatsword in his hand heavily into the ground, letting out a sharp 'clang'.
"You want to take our Lord? Fine!"
"But you must earn our respect in a knightly manner!"
His voice was like a great bell, ringing in the heart of every knight of the Vale.
"I, Glandy Grafton, hereby challenge you!"
"A fair duel!"
"No dragons, no magic!"
"Only you and I, sword and shield!"
"If you win, Robert Arryn is yours to take!"
"But if you lose, then please take your monster and immediately leave The Eyrie, never to step into the Vale again!"
The old knight's words instantly ignited the dying flame in the hearts of all the Vale knights.
That's right!
They were knights!
They were the proudest eagles of Westeros!
They might not be able to defeat that fire-breathing, ice-spitting monster, but the swords in their hands were still sharp!
Without the dragon and without that strange magic, what was Lynn?
Just a "Wildling from Beyond the Wall" who happened to be slightly taller than average!
"Duel! Duel!"
"Let him see the might of the Vale Knights!"
Emotions ran high.
They seemed to have found an outlet to vent all their humiliation and anger.
They desperately needed a victory to prove they weren't fools blinded by lies, and to wash away the deep-seated fear they had just experienced.
Lynn looked at these knights who had suddenly become "brave" again, watching the rekindled fighting spirit in their eyes, and a playful smile appeared on his face.
How interesting.
They don't want me to use the dragon?
If I have a dragon, why wouldn't I use it?
Truly attacking the enemy's weakness with one's own strength.
How shameless.
However, Lynn laughed.
He laughed loudly.
"Haha... hahahaha!"
His laughter echoed in the empty garden, causing all the shouting knights to freeze.
"A fair duel?"
Lynn stopped laughing and looked at the old knight with an expression reserved for idiots.
"Do you think that's fair to me?"
"What?"
Ser Glandy was stunned; he naturally knew this wasn't fair to Lynn.
"Since you've all spoken up, I will make sure you lose convincingly."
"I accept the duel."
"But, me alone fighting one old man?"
Lynn shook his head, his face expressing "reluctance to cause harm."
"Winning wouldn't be honorable."
All the Vale knights were dumbfounded.
Was there something wrong with this guy's head?
He actually complained that it wasn't fair?
Complained that he had the advantage?
He had no idea how strong this old knight's true combat power was!
"How about this,"
Lynn seemed to have made up his mind and took a step forward.
"One duel is too petty and proves nothing."
"I'll give you a better suggestion."
His gaze swept over all the armored knights present.
The look was like someone picking out a herd of pigs ready for slaughter at a market.
"How about we raise the stakes."
"You can select the hundred strongest men in your entire Vale."
"That is, the hundred bravest knights with the most superb swordsmanship in the entire Vale."
"I give you three days. You can now go and rally them from across the Vale."
"As long as this group of men can hold out against ten of us until one candle burns down."
"Then I lose, and I will leave immediately."
"Furthermore, I swear by the Old Gods and the New Gods that my army, Lynn's army, will never set foot in the Vale again!"
Silence.
A deathly silence.
Everyone thought they had misheard.
Ten... against one hundred?
And against the hundred strongest knights they selected themselves?
And they only needed to hold out until the candle burned down?
This... wasn't this a free victory?!
Ser Glandy's lips were trembling.
He looked at Lynn, his eyes filled with extreme confusion and suspicion.
He couldn't believe something this good existed in the world.
This must be a trap!
"Of course,"
"If the Vale lacks talent, I also permit you to seek outside assistance."
"Find the Lannisters, find the Baratheons, find anyone you like, suit yourselves."
Then, Lynn seemed to see through his doubts, and the smile on his face became more meaningful.
"But what if I win?"
Lynn paused, making everyone's heart jump into their throats.
"If, before that candle burns down, all one hundred of your men fall."
"Then..."
Lynn finally showed his fangs.
"Not only will I take Robert Arryn."
"The entire Vale of Arryn, from The Bloody Gate to Gulltown, all the castles, all the lands, all the lords..."
"Must swear allegiance to me, immediately cease fighting, and join me in attacking The Riverlands."
"My Lords, are you satisfied with this proposal?"
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