Humiliation

Gaegor surged forward, despite his wounded leg, and swung a flurry of attacks. Oberyn kept his distance, quite like a viper, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. With each wave of missed attacks, Gaegor seemed to slow down.

Whoosh, whoosh…

Now.

Oberyn got around him and smacked his bad leg, leading to Gaegor falling over on one knee.

He then pierced the back of his right elbow, another gap in the warrior's armour.

"GRAAAH!"

Gaegor roared like a wild animal, swinging back just like one.

Oberyn withdrew in time.

It was then that Gaegor got back on his feet, facing the red viper. 

Oberyn's eyes widened as his opponent did something absolutely insane.

Whoosh, whoosh.

He tossed one axe after the other, hurling them at Oberyn with deadly force.

They swung in the air like boomerangs – only these ones would chop your head off.

Naturally, Oberyn stopped their momentum by putting his spear forward and clashing against them.

However, this gave Gaegor time to sprint at him.

As Oberyn tried to evade, the pain in his earlier wound surged and he was forced to put up his spear in defence.

With the red viper's weak stance, Gaegor kept sprinting, deflecting Oberyn's spear with his plate armour and stretching out his right arm - aiming to perform a lariat on him.

Bang.

The force of Gaegor's outstretched arm sent Oberyn right to the ground.

Gaegor turned back to him, feeling strangely… sleepy. His eyelids grew heavy, but he pulled himself together and stepped forward to stomp on Oberyn's ribcage.

Oberyn rolled away to safety towards his spear, returning to his feet while simultaneously regaining his weapon.

Gaegor stepped back, his sight a blur. All his body sought now was rest.

Oberyn stepped forward and aimed his spear for Gaegor's head.

In response, Gaegor tilted his head and slipped past Oberyn's guard, uppercutting him clean in the chin.

Oberyn staggered back, dropping his spear.

He retreated from the slower Gaegor, who grabbed his fallen spear and tossed it to the Red Viper.

Oberyn dodged to the side, watching it fall to the ground further away.

He went over to grab it, while Gaegor regained his twin axes and stomped towards him with fury.

They proceeded to dance once more, but Oberyn was simply faster and gave Gaegor more wounds, which began to pile up.

"You... snake."

Gaegor muttered as he found himself losing the strength to fight any longer.

Oberyn proceeded to hit his helmet full-force with the side of his spear.

CLANG.

Drop.

Gaegor fell, seemingly because of his wounds.

Oberyn observed his own, the slash of Gaegor's axe that had left quite the mark. His opponent was beyond a formidable warrior, perhaps the strongest he had fought in his lifetime. He had hoped to avoid getting hurt entirely... but that didn't come to fruition.

While Gaegor may have lost the duel, he had almost ensured that Oberyn would lose the tournament to come.

His next opponent would be the Hound, after all, who would be in better shape tomorrow.

Oberyn looked to the side, where he saw an upheaval erupt.

"Get out of my way!"

Valaegor rushed to the tournament grounds, breaking through everything that stood in his way. He reached his brother in mere seconds and knelt at his side with a look of concern. His expression changed as he continued to examine his state. It looked like he had simply fallen unconcious, rather than died.

"You need something?" Oberyn questioned.

"Give me your spear."

Oberyn raised an eyebrow.

Valaegor's expression turned into a frown as he grabbed the shaft of Oberyn's spear and kicked him right in the chest - pushing the prince away. After that, he took a closer observation at the spear tip.

"Tsk." Valaegor violently threw down the spear to Oberyn.

"What, you thought I'd used poison?" Oberyn chuckled, shaking his head. "I know Edric would not let that slip lightly, even if we are on good terms. If you need a maester to take care of his wounds, you may have mine."

"I don't need your inept maesters..."

"Fair enough." Oberyn shrugged, turning away.

"I'll see you in the final round - if you can even make it there."

"I look forward to it." Oberyn replied.

And so, Oberyn claimed victory in the sixth duel of the third round.

Meanwhile...

Arianne couldn't keep herself from laughing as Margaery remained silent and composed. All the other ladies were merely observers, not wanting to pick sides between them - at least not in public.

"Ah..." After what was nearly a minute of endless laughter, Arianne composed herself and looked at Margaery with a devious grin. "I won't spare you the courtesy of seeing this tournament end, either. You should be out of King's Landing and on the roseroad by tomorrow - with haste."

"We did not formally agree on that," Margaery smirked, shaking her head. "I will honour our bet once the tournament ends and I have made suitable preparations for my leave. Until then, you should practice some patience."

"... Hmph." Arianne crossed her arms. "Lingering around for a couple more days, I see. Little difference it will make."

"Precisely. I don't see why you're so agitated."

Further up ahead, Edric observed the stage.

'Oberyn pulled through and got Gaegor up and out of the way.' Edric smiled, stroking his chin. 'I thought he'd be an even greater issue than Valaegor, but I might be wrong...'

"Truly, Gaegor does not know when to stop when his blood is drawn. When he starts fighting with bloodlust, he only stops once all of his enemies are dead... or he falls unconscious."

Rhaerra remarked, sighing.

"Sounds like a fine warrior to have around." Edric mused sarcastically. 'Does everyone in her service have at least one screw loose? Maybe that's the entry requirement to be one of her blue cloaks.'

Edric kept his eyes on the grounds in thought.

The second-last fight of the third round would feature Marcher Lord Randyll Tarly and Brienne of Tarth. Against any other member of the Kingsguard, Randyll Tarly would have looked at his opponent with respect. But Brienne... he couldn't stand the thought of a woman wielding a sword, let alone being one of the seven Kingsguard of the Realm.

He took Heartsbane with the intent of showing all the witnesses that she was not worthy of her white cloak.

As for Brienne, the whispers of the court were not lost to her. She knew she had something to prove.

Both were in full plate, greatsword against morningstar. Randyll had the reach advantage with Heartsbane and he knew it, though the lord didn't think it was fitting to cower from a woman.

They began dueling in earnest, with Brienne tactfully deflecting Heartsbane and fighting defensively. During the duel, she recalled the words of the master-at-arms of Evenfall Hall, Ser Goodwin - who had taught her how to fight.

"Men will always underestimate you, and their pride will make them want to vanquish you quickly; let it be said that a woman tried them sorely. Let them spend their strength in furious attacks, whilst you conserve your own. Wait and watch, girl, wait and watch."

This advice couldn't be more fitting for a proud lord like Randyll Tarly. Indeed, as Brienne remained standing without even a scratch from Heartsbane, Randyll grew frustrated and more reckless. He surged forward, swinging wildly, but Brienne sidestepped him and parried Heartsbane - smashing her morningstar against the back of his elbow.

Randyll almost lost grip on Heartsbane from the pain, but he remained stubborn and aimed for Brienne's head.

She tilted her head and evaded the wounded Randyll's swing, his Valyrian Steel blade loudly cutting through nothing but air.

With a swift flick of her wrist, Brienne struck the side of his chest - his left kidney.

It was a blow that almost sent Randyll to his knees and took the breath out of his body.

"Concede, Lord Randyll. I wouldn't wish to wound you further."

Though Brienne was being entirely sincere, Lord Randyll took it for mockery and struggled to his feet.

He would continue fighting, albeit unable to land a single blow due to his lack of energy. Brienne would try to convicne him to give up but it was all for naught. She had to beat him down, blow by blow.

In the end, she had no choice but to go for the head.

She deflected one of his slow attacks and headbutted the marcher lord, staggering him back.

Then she swung swiftly, smashing her morningstar against his head.

Drop.

Randyll Tarly would drop to the ground - unable to rise. Upon further inspection, Brienne realised that she had knocked him unconscious with that blow.

She let out a sigh.

It was not the result she desired, but Randyll Tarly had fought like losing against her was worse than death.

'Man got slumped... bedtime came early for ol' Lord Randyll.' Edric thought, briefly covering his mouth as he kept in his laughter. It's not that he bore much distaste for Randyll, but the way in which he fell... his body found it amusing. 'Maybe he shouldn't have doubted my choice of Kingsguard so loudly.'

The final duel of the third round would be between Valaegor and Ser Lyn Corbray, who had been itching to face the upstart foreigner.

Valaegor observed the knight, focusing on his Valyrian Steel sword.

"Lady Forlorn, is it?" Valaegor raised an eyebrow. "Wasted on an unworthy suitor, it seems."

"Unworthy?" Lyn Corbray questioned. "You do not know me, valyrian. There is no one more fitting to wield her than myself."

"Didn't you lose her in the seven-a-side melee - to Ser Arthur?" Valaegor chuckled, shaking his head. "How does a swordsman lose his sword?"

"How did you lose your poleaxe? Did you conveniently forget you lost to the same knight I did?"

"I was under a fucking horse." Valaegor frowned, only for a moment. His expression lightened into a smile. "You were on the ground in a fair dance, one which you lost. If only I had a Valyrian Steel sword... alas, I shouldn't waste my breath on a mediocre knight such as yourself. I'll beat you swiftly and be on my way."

"You are in for a rude awakening today."

"Am I? The bitterness of my brother's defeat has not left me yet... and you will be the one to suffer for it."

Both had a strong sense of pride in their ability...

However, one was simply better than the other.

Valaegor toyed with Ser Lyn Corbray like a child, tossing him around the tourney grounds and hitting him over a dozen times with lighter blows. Ser Lyn Corbray could not even get Lady Forlorn near enough to scratch his armour.

Eventually, Valaegor had smashed his arm and Lady Forlorn clattered to the ground.

Valaegor proceeded to kick the knight futher down before inspecting Lady Forlorn.

"Such a storied blade with such a mediocre wielder." Valaegor mused, putting down his poleaxe and spinning Lady Forlorn in his hand as if it were his own. "It calls to me, like a wife whose husband never quite satisfied her. Such a shame..."

Ser Lyn Corbray rose, weaponless, yet his heart engulfed in flames. He looked to Valaegor's poleaxe - going straight for it.

"Go on." Valaegor turned his back to Ser Lyn as if he was not a threat in the slightest. "Try to take her back, Ser Lyn Corbray."

"You will rue your words... I swear it."

Lyn Corbray raised Valaegor's poleaxe, only to realise just how heavy it was. His wounds had weakened him, too, but Valaegor made it look like he was swinging a normal-sized axe.

He tried swinging at Valaegor, only for him to casually block the large axehead and push back Ser Lyn with his strength.

"A harmless raven like you couldn't make me rue a single thing."

He continued playing with Ser Lyn Corbray, taunting him and avoiding getting hit at all. After over twenty minutes, the knight was exhausted while Valaegor laughed at his efforts.

"You are persistent, at the very least. Mayhaps you ought to change your personal sigil to that of a cockroach."

Eventually, he disarmed Corbray again by headbutting him. Then he kicked the knight down a third time and went so far as to remove his helmet and step on his face with his slightly spiked sabatons, slashing his cheek. He proceeded to rub in his foot while Lyn couldn't find the energy to resist the humiliation.

"Why haven't you conceded yet?" Valaegor raised an eyebrow as he laughed. "This isn't going to get any better for you."

"Damn... you." Lyn Corbray raised his hands and grabbed his foot, trying to raise it off his head.

Valaegor's foot remained firm as he pushed it down further.

He then lowered Lady Forlorn to his neck.

"Do I have to kill you to win?"

"King Edric of the House Baratheon, First of His Name, declares this duel concluded!"

Valaegor looked back in surprise as the tournament organiser shouted out loud.

"Valaegor Raelae-reonor is the victor and will advance to the fourth round!"

"Your King took pity on you." Valaegor laughed, throwing Lady Forlorn to the ground far away. "Go and pick her up off the ground when you eventually rise from the ground, Ser Lyn. I had my fun using her."

Lyn Corbray stared at the sky for a good few minutes, not allowing anyone to help him up. Eventually, he summoned the last of his strength and rose from the ground to pick up Lady Forlorn and leave the tournament grounds in bitter fury - grinding his teeth.

"That foolish Val..." Raerra sighed, shaking her head. "Needlessly making enemies."

"He might lose yet." Edric smiled as he watched how the events unfolded and developed. "The way in which he beat Ser Lyn Corbray decreased his chances of winning it all."

"How would that be the case?" Arya questioned, raising an eyebrow. "It looked like he was playing with him. If anything, that makes him more of a favourite - no?"

"A knight like Ser Lyn Corbray is proud and values his honour above all else. Even if he did lose, he will stop at no end to ensure that Valaegor does not win the next rounds."

"How could he affect the later rounds?"

"We'll have to see."

'Arthur might have to put up another Kirito impression...'

...

With the third round complete, only eight competitors remained;

To the upper left side of the bracket, Ser Arthur Tudbury and Daman.

To the bottom left side, The Hound and Oberyn Martell.

To the upper right side of the bracket, Valaegor and Ser Garlan Tyrell.

To the lower right side of the bracket, Brienne of Tarth and Ser Loras Tyrell.

The winners of the fourth round would then face off the other victor from their side and then the victor of that round would face the champion of the other side in the final.

...

Since there were only eight duels, Edric hosted a few more events to entertain the crowd - including a mini-battle between his recruits from Storm's End. Afterwards, he'd go out in the evening on a run to get some reps in.

Arya joined him alongside some of the Kingsguard and men in his service, running all the way into the Kingswood.

"Do you need a horse?" Edric glanced back as Arya struggled to keep up with him. "Or a pony, for that matter?"

"One stride of yours is like three of mine..." Arya remarked, breathlessly.

"I'm not the one who said I'd keep up," Edric replied, shrugging his shoulders. "Life's hardly ever fair."

...

[Edric's POV]

When night came, I strolled through the gardens to see what Rhaerra was doing with her rented space. The answer was a messy workplace that was also strangely organized. She was working on two large paintings, with half a dozen works placed to the side.

I wasn't exactly someone with a keen eye for art, but they looked high quality.

The two main incomplete paintings were seemingly complete opposites. One depicts the radiant sun over a grassy field of flowers with a knight on one knee, and the other shows a clouded moon shining over a stormy world filled with fire, rain lightning, and bloodied corpses. One depicts the beauty and tranquility of life, while the other reflects its sorrows.

Together, they show the turbulence between both.

Currently, she seemed absolutely focused on the one on the right, the darker painting.

"What was the inspiration for those two works of art?"

"You."