Chapter 194: Defeated in Seconds?

At this moment, Gregor Clegane had already taken his position on the sidelines.

He was the largest and most robust man Sansa Stark had ever seen in her life.

King Robert and his two brothers were not small in stature, and even the Hound was a big man. 

In Winterfell, there was a stable boy named Hodor, who was even taller than them, but compared to the knight known as Gregor standing before her, they all seemed short. 

He stood nearly eight feet tall, with broad shoulders and arms as thick as tree trunks. 

His steed beneath his armored feet looked like a mere toy horse, and the lance in his hand resembled a broomstick.

Ser Gregor was not like his brother in courtly matters.

He was a solitary man, rarely leaving his own domain except for warfare or tournaments.

When King's Landing fell, he was by the side of Tywin, only seventeen years old at the time. 

Despite just becoming a knight, he had already gained renown far and wide for his immense size and unmatched ferocity.

Some said he was the one who smashed the infant Prince Aegon Targaryen against the wall, crushing him to death, and then raped the infant's mother, Princess Elia of Dorne, before finally killing her with a sword. 

Of course, no one dared to mention such rumors in his presence.

Sansa looked at him uneasily because the next match would be between him and the mysterious knight. 

Although Arya repeatedly told her that Gregor was no match for the masked knight, and now she was inclined to believe her sister, seeing Gregor, who was several times larger than the masked knight, still made her very uneasy.

Sansa was not one to easily believe rumors herself, but the rumors surrounding Gregor were not like baseless gossip. 

He was about to enter his third marriage, and there were terrifying rumors behind the deaths of his first two wives.

It was said that his castle was a gloomy and terrifying place, where servants disappeared mysteriously, and even dogs dared not enter the halls. 

His sister died young under mysterious circumstances, his brother suffered burns in a fire, and their father died in a hunting accident.

Gregor inherited the family castle, wealth, and estates. 

On the day he received the inheritance, his brother Sandor left home to serve as a knight for House Lannister, and it was said that he never returned, not even to visit.

As the masked knight entered the arena, whispers and murmurs arose from the crowd. Sansa whispered eagerly, "Oh, he's so handsome."

Compared to Gregor, the masked knight was slender as a reed. 

He wore a suit of silver armor with elaborate azure patterns, polished to a dazzling shine. Decorative feathers adorned his silver helmet.

The cloak draped over his shoulders was deep blue, with golden patterns embroidered on it.

His steed was as beautiful as the rider atop it, a magnificent silver horse, agile and swift. With a light touch of his heels, the masked knight's mount danced gracefully from side to side like a nimble performer.

Sansa gripped Ed's arm.

"Father, don't let Ser Gregor harm him," she said, this being the only thing she could do for the masked knight now.

Ed saw her wearing the white rose the masked knight had given her yesterday. His squire, Jory, had told him everything that had happened yesterday.

"They're using blunted lances," he told his daughter. "They'll shatter on impact, so no one will be hurt."

Though he said this, he couldn't shake the memory of the Elyria Vale Knight who died at the hands of Gregor yesterday, which made his words sound hollow.

After both had paid their respects to the king, they rode to the edge of the field and lowered their lances, readying themselves.

Ser Gregor tugged on the reins, urging his horse to the starting line, and then everything suddenly began.

Gregor's destrier galloped forward violently, while the masked knight's silver steed moved with smooth and agile strides.

Ser Gregor twisted his shield into place, adjusted his lance, and aimed it viciously at the height of the masked knight's throat. 

It was a scene identical to yesterday when facing the Elyria Vale knight, which furrowed Ed's brow, but he couldn't speak up at this moment.

Sansa, who didn't understand the art of combat, didn't know what this meant, but it didn't stop her from worrying about the masked knight, especially when she saw the mountain-like figure of Gregor charging toward the slender masked knight. 

She was afraid he would be knocked flying by Gregor.

In another corner of the audience stands, Arya and her mentor, Syrio Forel, were also watching the duel.

Unlike Sansa, Arya, who had studied swordsmanship, understood the purpose of Gregor's thrust. 

The young girl had never seen such a real scene before, and although she believed in the masked knight, she couldn't help but feel nervous for him.

Suddenly, the masked knight was upon them, and Gregor aimed his spear directly at the masked knight's throat with all his might. 

With his strength, even if the throat area was protected by armor, this thrust would have been fatal, possibly breaking the masked knight's neck.

However, faced with this potentially lethal blow, the masked knight remained calm, as if facing falling leaves.

He merely tilted his head slightly, and the tip of Gregor's spear brushed past his neck by a hair's breadth.

Such a thrilling evasion, if Gregor's spear had deviated by just five centimeters, it would have pierced his neck.

Including Robert and Ed, many of the older nobles and knights present had experienced the wars of Robert's Rebellion, emerging from the battlefield where swords clashed and shadows danced.

However, seeing such a confident evasion, they couldn't help but wonder.

How?

How could the masked knight be so confident?

Such a daring evasion was akin to dancing on the edge of a sword.

However, such a daring evasion naturally had its advantages. Since the evasion was minimal, the masked knight's own movements were hardly affected by it at all.

While Gregor was unable to adjust the movement of his lance, the masked knight had already struck.

His spear thrust was swift and precise, easily bypassing the shield's defense, and Gregor fell before he could react.

Due to his immense size, he even brought down his horse, and they both rolled into a tangled heap of man and horse armor.

Sansa heard cheers, applause, whistles, gasps of astonishment, excited whispers, especially the rough, grating laughter of the Hound.

Even she herself began to get excited, and hearing the praises for the masked knight, she suddenly felt proud.

Arya also breathed a sigh of relief for the masked knight, and then she heard Syrio Forel sigh deeply, exclaiming.

"What you just saw is the pinnacle of martial arts the whether it's the hair's breadth evasion or the lightning-fast thrust that catches the opponent off guard without even raising his shield.

Although it looks simple, it's completely unstoppable. This is the true power and his skill level indeed surpasses mine by far."

At this point, Syrio Forel seemed somewhat melancholic.

However, his words immediately captured Arya's heart. 

Thinking that he had said he could teach her some techniques, Arya felt a surge of sweetness. She was determined to learn this skill from him and then surprise her mentor, father, and siblings.

The masked knight held the reins on the opposite side of the field, not even breaking his lance. 

As he gracefully waved to the audience, his silvery armor shimmered in the sunlight, driving the crowd into a frenzy of adoration.

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