-Chapter 181-

-POV Gunthor Royce-

"Commander, they're all attacking us," said Ulf, nearly trembling with fear as he moved closer to me.

"No, not all of them," I replied with a smile, seeing that Jason Lannister had kept his word and had also taken our side to protect our rear.

'We won't be able to form a single unified formation, since they're not trained like our men, but as long as they block that direction, we can hold,' I thought, still gritting my teeth at Laenor's audacity.

Though his actions seemed inexplicable, I was in a good position to know that not everything was smooth between my nephew and his wife's family...

'Nothing has ever been simple in that family,' I spat silently, for we stood on the brink of a civil war that could have been avoided if our king hadn't felt guilty about sleeping with his daughter's lover.

'The same lover who is now the mother of the future king,' I thought, because knowing Aemon, he didn't want to be king, and that boy was the only one he'd entrust with the task.

'His little protégé.'

I slowly drew my sword — the ancestral blade of House Royce, Lamentation — and watched with intense focus as the first enemy knights crashed into our defensive line, like waves slamming into a cliff.

"OPEN FORMATION!" I yelled, and I didn't need to specify how — the two knights in front of me reacted instantly, opening just enough space for a single man to come through.

Without hesitation, I flipped my sword and smashed the pommel into my opponent's chin with all my strength — he wasn't protected there, wearing a helmet more suited for display than real battle.

'Helmets exist for a damn good reason: to protect your head,' I thought as the decorative helm flew off his lifeless body.

Blood dripped from his mouth, but seeing that he no longer moved, I didn't bother finishing him off.

Each of them came from noble houses, or represented one, and I had no desire to provoke their wrath needlessly.

'That would only become another useless obstacle in Aemon's path,' I thought, having learned over the years that even the smallest pebble in your shoe can cause pain.

I barely paid attention to the fool trying to shine in this chaos before plunging into the fray myself, stabbing precisely through an unprotected part of the next man's leg.

Such a strike wouldn't have been possible without all the training I endured with my nephew, but unfortunately for this man, I had suffered enough to be able to crush his hopes of glory with a brutal heel strike to his helmeted face.

Even with proper protection, the blow dazed him enough to be no immediate threat.

That allowed me to push forward again, but this time, my opponent wasn't stunned like the last — he looked more experienced, and far calmer.

Rather than attack me blindly, or freeze in fear like the others, he did just one thing…

He raised his shield and hid behind it.

It might be the worst thing a beginner could do in battle — a sign of weakness in a storm of violence — but… against someone like me, it was the best way not to die quickly.

The best way to survive.

'Unfortunately for you, I'm no mere warrior. I am the Commander of the Bronze Shields,' I thought, rushing him and striking his wooden shield, reinforced with what seemed like metal.

'Steel, probably,' I thought as I felt that part resist, unlike the wood, which I utterly shattered in one blow.

I didn't let him think — a kick to his chest sent him staggering backward into another knight, who then fell.

Instead of finishing off the unbalanced knight in front of me, I raised my sword to block a long blade swinging mercilessly toward my head.

I laughed as I saw the large seahorse emblazoned on my attacker's chestplate.

It wasn't a laugh of joy, or anticipation, or even amusement. No, it was pure rage.

I had always despised traitors, and this blatant attack was an act of betrayal in my eyes — he had just declared war on my nephew, and knowing Aemon, he wouldn't let that slide.

'No, he'll make him pay, and Lady Laena will be the one to suffer,' I thought, having fully embraced the young Velaryon woman, who had arrived years ago and given my nephew strength, wisdom, and heirs.

He'd never admit it, but I knew him well enough to say: he couldn't live without her.

"And you're putting all of that in danger," I muttered through clenched teeth, shoving my opponent back — one step, but no further.

He was about to reset his stance, but from nowhere, a bull crashed into him, sending Laenor flying several meters.

When he landed, I truly thought he'd broken a limb, but after a few moments, he stood back up.

Meanwhile, the experienced knight I'd unbalanced tried to sneak in a strike, but I wasn't fooled.

Even though my attention had been partially on Laenor, I'd never taken my eyes off him.

I hadn't forgotten we were still in the middle of a fight.

---

-POV Aemon Targaryen-

I raised an eyebrow as I watched Hugh send Laenor flying like a ragdoll, placing a hand on Laena's as she gasped in horror — unlike the crowd, who were just waiting for blood to be spilled.

'But that won't happen so easily,' I thought, knowing full well that no one was truly trying to kill anyone here.

This isn't a peasant brawl — it's a fight between nobles, which could have real consequences: assassinations, raids, even war.

"Don't worry, he's fine," I said as Laenor slowly got back on his feet, dazed, surrounded by his knights and pulled back slightly from the 'front line', leaving command to Harwin Fort, who quickly reorganized his men and brought back Laenor's knights to wear mine down.

'They've trained together,' I noted, seeing that the Riverlands knights were more responsive and coordinated than usual.

'They're not as good as mine, but they wouldn't move that well if this were their first battle together,' I realized, understanding that the massive reward I'd promised the melee winner actually mattered to Rhaenyra.

Come to think of it, ever since she lost the Stepstones, she also lost the means to fund her ambitions — forgetting that, for others, gold was a problem.

'The problems of the poor,' I thought with slight disdain.

Thanks to my management and wise investments, I was now the proud owner of an enormous fortune.

A fortune so vast, it was difficult to even measure.

I did have around five million gold dragons, but that was only a fraction of my true wealth.

'Maybe not even 10%.'

I usually reinvested it quickly to support my commercial expansion, the prosperity and welfare of my people, and the upkeep of my ever-growing army.

My attention was drawn to Jason Lannister, who, to my surprise, had pulled off a brilliant maneuver — pushing back his attackers to break their encirclement and join his front with mine.

"80 against 40, the numbers are not in our favor," said Ser Willem mildly.

I raised my eyebrows, agreeing but not giving up.

From what I could see, Jason Lannister had prepared as well, and I truly doubted any of his 'knights' came from other houses.

'He wouldn't have made his entire personal guard "knights"… would he?' I wondered, observing the synchronicity between them.

Just as I was questioning it, I saw Gunthor — who had until then held the line — suddenly change formation and lead a charge, this time at the front.

I frowned, not out of fear that he couldn't defeat those in front of him — he was better than all of them, I had ensured it — and with Lamentation, he wouldn't lose.

'But does he have the stamina to end this fight by himself?' I wondered, watching the direction he was taking.

"He wants to eliminate Laenor," said Laena, her brow furrowed.

I held back a frown, understanding that Laenor was trying to vent his frustration in this battle, but I could see it in people's eyes — he had just inspired some dangerous ideas.

"He deserves a proper lesson," I said quietly.

Knowing Laena, she said nothing, but I knew she didn't agree.

I couldn't blame her for loving her brother — it was one of the qualities I loved most about her.

However…

I did blame Laenor for abusing that love.

For thinking it was a shield.

Some kind of immunity token.

'Show him, Gunthor.'