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"This is our man, sir."
The words came as they discovered the body of the scout.
Garlan Tyrell had led his army in pursuit for over a day, yet not a single scout had returned. They were still uncertain about the enemy's location.
This enemy was too cunning. How had they managed to find so many scouts?
Among the retreating soldiers, a keen observer might notice that their commander was in a dire mental state. While most wouldn't understand why, Cole knew all too well—it was the cost of using the Eye of Time too often.
His blue-violet eyes were laced with intricate bloodshot veins.
There was no room for rest. If even a single scout escaped, they would soon be caught.
The White Dragon lingered above Highgarden's forces, circling them day and night. They hounded Cole's group relentlessly, sending out scout after scout in pursuit.
Despite Cole's best efforts to erase their tracks, it wasn't enough.
When the White Dragon saw that Highgarden's army had stopped, Cole took the chance to rest as well. He tethered his horse beneath a tree and sat down, intending to take a brief nap. After all, the White Dragon was keeping watch.
The moment he closed his eyes, he fell into a deep sleep, his body and mind completely disconnected.
When he woke, it was already night. The memories shared by the White Dragon surged into his mind, and his face turned pale in an instant.
Damn it. You should've warned me earlier, White Dragon.
A bitter frustration rose in his heart, his mind momentarily clouded. But there was no time to dwell on it now.
Somehow, the enemy had circled around them and was now approaching.
Fortunately, he had woken in time—otherwise, they would have been ambushed.
The enemy had divided their forces, blocking both the front and rear. He had only a moment to choose.
No matter how strong he was, he was still human—he would tire, and he would make mistakes.
Glancing at the enemy's numbers in the sky, he made his decision.
Forward.
Without hesitation, Cole surged ahead, leading the charge. His men followed, determined to break through.
The two armies clashed.
Cole's sword struck a cavalryman square in the face. Another rider charged past, thrusting his lance at him. Cole twisted aside just in time, grabbing the man and slamming his armored elbow into his head, knocking him out instantly.
His twin swords flashed like flowing light, each strike swift and powerful. His warhorse, sensing his intent, charged straight into the enemy ranks, cutting a path through their formation.
His sheer ferocity sent ripples of fear through the opposing soldiers. They hesitated, their horses stepping back.
Then, a knight in dark green glazed armor rode forward, lance in hand.
Under the moonlight, the faint outline of a rose could be seen on his chest plate.
His warhorse thundered forward, cloak billowing behind him, iron hooves pounding the earth like rolling drums. He was like a charging iron colossus.
Cole's sharp gaze locked onto the lance. He leaned low, narrowly dodging it as the two riders streaked past each other like the wind.
The lance skimmed just above his head—dangerously close.
The green knight's eyes flashed with surprise. He yanked the reins, slowing his charge, then wheeled his horse around to pursue.
One thrust, one slash—two more knights came charging toward Cole. But before he could deal with them, the sound of galloping hooves erupted behind him.
He didn't need to turn around.
It was the green knight.
Cole veered aside just in time, the lance missing him once more. But this time, the green knight discarded it, drawing his longsword as he closed in.
Steel clashed. Cole barely managed to deflect the first strike.
Fortunately, he had another sword. He swung again.
The green knight reacted swiftly, pulling his blade back to parry. Their swords met with a sharp clang, neither giving an inch.
Blades flashed—slashes, thrusts, counters. Back and forth they went, striking and parrying in a deadly dance.
Cole attacked from the left and right, but the knight expertly blocked every strike with his shield. And each time he found an opening, his counterattack was ruthless.
Cole was shocked by the man's sheer skill.
Garlan Tyrell, too, was astonished by his enemy's agility.
Suddenly, the knight's longsword shot forward, forcing Cole to block with his left blade. But the moment their swords met, the knight twisted his shield—striking first with a hidden slash from behind it.
Cole barely had time to react.
He raised his left sword—light as a feather—meeting the attack head-on.
Garlan felt a jolt in his palm as the impact nearly wrenched his sword from his grasp.
Such strength… He was secretly alarmed. Before he could tighten his grip, a sudden chill brushed against his neck—he had narrowly avoided a fatal strike.
Cole's attack had missed, but he swung his sword again without hesitation.
Garlan barely managed to raise his shield in time. With a sharp crack, the finely steel-inlaid zither shield split under the force of the blow.
The two warriors moved as they fought, neither taking their eyes off the other. Blow after blow, their swords clashed more than a dozen times. Gradually, Cole gained the upper hand. Few could withstand such relentless, powerful strikes for long. The knight's movements slowed.
Another slash connected, but Garlan's armor absorbed most of the impact, preventing a serious wound.
With each exchange, his exhaustion deepened.
Then—suddenly—Cole's horse stumbled on a loose stone. The beast buckled, its hooves collapsing beneath it, and Cole was thrown from the saddle.
Reacting instantly, he flung his sword aside and shielded his head as he rolled across the ground. But before he could rise, a dark figure loomed over him.
It was the Green Knight, sword in hand, its tip aimed directly at Cole's chest.
Well, this is ironic. Cole laughed inwardly. He had joked about falling from his horse earlier—he hadn't expected it to happen so soon.
Before the blade could strike, the Green Knight suddenly dismounted and extended a hand, helping Cole to his feet.
"Are you hurt?" he asked.
Cole blinked in confusion, his heart trembling at the unexpected gesture. The knight gave him a small nod.
Still stunned, Cole stammered, "Thank you."
He glanced around, realizing too late that he had fought himself into a dead end. In the heat of battle, he had lost track of his footing.
He staggered upright, only to find himself surrounded—horses blocking every escape, armored figures encircling him. He was trapped.
The Green Knight retrieved Cole's sword before tossing it aside. Cole, exhausted, had no strength left to resist.
Removing his helmet, the knight threw it behind him and said firmly, "You can't escape. Surrender."
"Lord Tyrell, he's Cole Julius!" A cavalryman called out from behind.
Cole turned to look—it was Mei Dou.
Garlan stepped forward. "You're a wise man, Ser Cole. Stannis cannot win. Swear loyalty to His Majesty Renly, and he will forgive your transgressions."
Cole let out a soft cough, took a few steps back, then suddenly burst into laughter.
"Isn't it a little too early to be so certain of victory?"
"You think Storm's End still has hope?" Garlan shook his head. "If you believe burning supplies is enough to win, I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. Highgarden's fleet has already sailed north from the Mander."
Cole chuckled. "Then you'd better make sure those ships don't burn again. As for surrender… why don't you surrender to His Majesty Stannis instead?"
"Stannis does not deserve our support."
Cole smirked. "Is that so?" His gaze sharpened. "He's the one who placed this sword in my hand, declared me a true knight of the Seven Kingdoms, and even granted me a name. When I washed up from the sea, barely alive, it was Shireen Baratheon who ordered the maester to save me. Whether out of gratitude or duty, I will fight for Stannis in this war."
His eyes met Garlan's. "Our paths are different, Ser. I don't know your name—but I hope we meet again."
With that, Cole suddenly turned and leapt off the cliff.
Garlan rushed to the edge, peering into the abyss below—nothing but darkness.
"He's a knight," he murmured to those beside him, his voice filled with reluctant admiration. "I never expected Stannis to have a man like that by his side."