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The wolf's howl, echoing across all of King's Landing, naturally reached the Red Keep.
Inside the fortress, all the Gold Cloaks assigned to guard and patrol duty were first stunned by the sound. Soon after, they could not help but gather in small groups, whispering among themselves.
"Robb, that was Bloodwind. When you said earlier that the time had come… you meant it was time for us to leave, didn't you?"
In the ballroom, remembering how Robb had only pointed to his ear before the familiar howl sounded, Sansa asked softly.
"Mm. Let's go."
Robb smiled at his sister, nodded, and pulled her out from behind the pillar.
Creeeak.
Just as the two stepped into the center of the vast hall, the dark red doors opened, and a tall figure appeared outside.
It was a massive man, only slightly shorter than the Mountain, his body packed with dense, well-defined muscles. The right side of his face was stern and worn, with pronounced cheekbones, thick brows, and gray eyes.
But the left side was grotesque. The flesh had been burned and twisted. His ear was almost entirely gone, leaving only a dark hollow. Beneath it stretched a mass of scar tissue, ridged and warped, full of pits and twisted flesh.
Sandor Clegane. The Hound. Joffrey's loyal guard.
Back in Winterfell, Robb had already dealt with him, but he had never truly studied him up close.
Now, seeing him like this, even Robb had to admit it. Sandor's face was hard to look at. An ordinary person would feel fear at the mere sight of him.
"Can you pretend you didn't see us?"
Knowing the Hound harbored unspoken feelings for Sansa, Robb did not attack immediately. Instead, he spoke in a low voice.
Dressed in dark mail, the Hound did not answer.
He simply drew the sword at his waist.
Even so, he was clearly holding back. He did not shout for the other guards, and he even shut the ballroom doors behind him.
Robb pushed Sansa toward the edge of the hall and drew the common sword at his waist.
"You know I wounded that armored brute you call a brother. If the moment hadn't been bad, I could have killed him right there.
You hate him more than anyone, don't you? Let us pass. In the future, I can kill the Mountain for you myself."
The two stood facing each other in the center of the hall. Tilting his head slightly, Robb smiled as he spoke.
At those words, Sandor's eyes flickered for a moment, as if the idea had shaken him.
But at this point, he was still loyal to Joffrey, loyal to the Lannisters. Sword in hand, he stepped forward and struck straight at Robb.
Robb's blade moved second, but arrived first. In a swift motion, he struck the forward third of the Hound's blade.
Sandor's strength was not small, but it was still inferior to Robb's.
The clash knocked his sword aside, breaking the flow of his attack.
"Come with me to Winterfell. I can make you Sansa's personal guard."
Taking advantage of the moment before Sandor could resume his attack, Robb spoke again.
Hearing this, the Hound's eyes shifted involuntarily toward Sansa, who stood at the edge of the hall, silent and beautiful.
The instant he was distracted, Robb brought his sword down in a vertical strike toward his left shoulder.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
As soon as Robb attacked, Sandor reacted at once, raising his blade to block.
A vertical strike. A horizontal cut. A downward slash.
Sandor blocked all three in succession. Though his movements were slightly rushed, his fundamentals were solid, and his level was high.
After the three strikes were blocked, Robb suddenly planted his left foot as a pivot, twisted his body to the right, and unleashed a powerful horizontal slash.
The Hound gripped his sword with both hands and set it along the outside of his left arm to block.
But in that same instant, his left leg was swept out from beneath him.
Losing his balance at once, his massive body tilted sideways in midair and slammed heavily onto the ground.
As he had twisted to deliver the cut, Robb had also thrown his right leg forward in parallel with the motion of the blade. Sandor blocked the sword, but never noticed the leg, and was brought down instantly.
The fall was heavy.
Sandor shook his head, trying to rise, but the cold, gleaming tip of Robb's sword was already pressed against his throat.
"Do it."
Lowering his gaze to the blade, Sandor closed his eyes and spoke.
The blade slowly withdrew from his neck.
Robb looked at him and said:
"I respect your loyalty to the Lannisters. But don't let House Clegane define who you are.
You are not a dog. You are a man. You are Sandor Clegane.
And in the end… thank you for taking care of Sansa in King's Landing."
After saying this, Robb took Sansa's hand and led her out of the hall.
Behind them, Sandor listened, something unfamiliar flickering in his eyes.
To many, Sandor was nothing more than a brutal, ugly killer.
But to Sansa, he was the one who had protected her.
In the original story, after the Battle of the Blackwater, when wildfire shattered his mind, Sandor abandoned the battlefield and went to Sansa's chambers.
At that moment, he had intended to take her away from King's Landing, back to Winterfell.
But Sansa refused him.
Even then, Sandor could have done whatever he wished with her. But he did not. He left in silence.
That was why, from the beginning, Robb had tried to persuade him with words.
If he could bring him under his command, he would gain a formidable fighter.
That said, throughout that entire exchange of blows, Robb's combat awareness and swordsmanship had grown without him even realizing it, reaching an almost absurd level.
It was true that Sandor had been distracted for a moment. Even so, subduing him in just a few moves was not something an ordinary man could accomplish.
Robb pulled Sansa toward the passage connecting Maegor's Holdfast and the Tower of the Hand.
Whenever they encountered guards they could avoid, they did.
Those they could not avoid died beneath Robb's blade.
More than ten minutes later, already inside the great hall of the Tower of the Hand, Robb retrieved Ice.
Earlier, while fighting Sandor, he had not had the mental space to pay attention to the thoughts Bloodwind had been sending him.
Now, finally with a moment to catch his breath, he could sense what the wolf had been trying to convey.
Idiots… delicious.
Shaking his head, speechless, Robb had no desire to find out what kind of "meal" Bloodwind had discovered this time.
Instead, through the bond between them, he sent the command for the wolf to regroup with him.
Through that connection, they could sense each other's approximate location, so Robb had no concern that Bloodwind would lose his way.
...
At the same time, Crey, accompanied by one of his men, arrived at the southern gate of the Red Keep's outer wall by way of the battlements.
"What are you two doing here instead of guarding the South Tower?"
Nearly fifty Gold Cloaks stood watch over the southern gate. One of the captains, seeing Crey approach from the direction of the South Tower, called out.
"We received an urgent order from Lord Baelish to inform you that you are to move to the Gate of the Gods and provide support."
With a tense, hurried expression, Crey spoke while pulling an order document from inside his clothing.
The captain took the document and examined it carefully.
"Mm. It does bear the commander's seal. But if we leave, who holds this position?"
"We'll hold it for now. Reinforcements from the South Tower will be sent shortly.
Move quickly. The north gate has likely received the same order. We can't afford to waste time."
Faced with the question, Crey lied without the slightest change in expression.
He had no fear of being exposed. The order carried a perfectly authentic commander's seal.
Moreover, the Red Keep stood in the southeastern corner of King's Landing, while the Gate of the Gods lay to the northwest. By the time they realized the truth and returned, Crey and the others would already be long gone.
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