Chapter 527: The Death of Stannis

The moon hung high tonight, casting a cool light upon the windowsill. The night was serene, save for the occasional dripping of water from the eaves.

The defeated soldiers from the front line had returned, causing a brief commotion within the walls of Storm's End. But soon, everything settled back to tranquility.

Given the lateness of the hour, most people had returned to their slumber. Yet, within his chambers, a light still burned for Stannis, the Lord of Storm's End.

Sleep eluded Stannis. The defeat at King's Landing haunted him.

He had once believed the White Walkers were his worst nightmare, believing that mankind stood little chance against them. Then the raging battles of Riverrun left him deeply scarred.

An arrow had subsequently struck Stannis in the knee, leading to months of imprisonment before a successful escape.

He thought he had left that nightmare behind, but to his dismay, he found himself plunged into another.

In the recent battle, over thirty thousand men of the Stormlands perished — fathers, sons, brothers. Including the elderly and infirm in support roles, the number would be even more staggering.

He had prepared extensively for this battle, not anticipating that its outcome would cost the future and hope of the entire Stormlands.

The Baratheons had ruled these lands for almost three centuries. Now, how many despised him?

Inside the lord's chamber, the candlelight flickered gently. Stannis sat quietly at his desk, still clad in his armor. His expression remained as always — steadfast, resolute, unyielding like a rock in a mire. Only his breathing seemed heavier than usual.

Lost in thought, Stannis pondered the recent events, including Renly's death and the crushing defeat at King's Landing. Suddenly, a knock sounded at his door.

Knock Knock"Davos?"

"Enter."

Stannis, still somewhat dazed, assumed it was the Onion Knight, his most trusted adviser, who had just returned from the battlefield.

However, he soon realized his mistake, noticing the absence of Davos' usual greeting.

"William?"

Whether due to keen intuition or his suspicious nature, an ominous feeling arose within Stannis.

Instinctively, he grasped the hilt of his sword. He still wore his dusty armor, and the sword remained sheathed. He called out for his guard.

William had been a loyal protector of the Baratheon line for three generations. His father had accompanied Stannis' father, Lord Steffon, on a fateful trip to Essos and perished during a storm upon their return.

Suddenly, the door burst open, revealing a robust young man in Baratheon armor, a bloody sword in hand.

William, the loyal guard, lay dead. The intruder, skilled in combat, had taken him by surprise.

"Guards!"

"Assassin!"

Stannis shouted, summoning the castle guards while drawing his sword, his eyes fixed on the intruder.

"Who are you?"

Recognition dawned on Stannis. The intruder resembled one of Renly's advisers, Donal from Stonehelm. Yet, this man was far more muscular.

"Baron Swann?"

He remembered that the Lord of Stonehelm had another son, known for his strength and combat skills.

Without a word, Baron lunged at Stannis, their swords clashing.

Outside the chamber, guards were assembling, alerted by Stannis' cries. But by the time they entered, it was too late.

Baron had overpowered Stannis, driving his sword through the lord's chest. Blood gushed out as Stannis looked at his attacker, trying to speak but choking on his own blood.

The dagger, once used to kill Renly, clattered to the ground as Stannis' lifeless body fell.