Game of Thrones: Oath of Iron and Fire-Chapter 30: The Fall of Myr

Not far from the eastern gate of Myr, the cries of battle had long been echoing. The clashing of steel, the shouts of combatants, rose and fell in a chaotic symphony.

The Wolf Pack's banners, a blur of gray and white, still fluttered in the wind. Gendry stood before the fallen Unsullied, his crude iron mask gleaming with a cold, ruthless light. Sweat dampened his charcoal-black short hair. His black-spiked hammer dripped blood. The Unsullied were brave, but they were not made of steel.

"Aim for the Unsullied's head or heart! Try to kill them in one blow. If you attack other parts, the Unsullied won't feel pain, and you won't be able to kill them!" Two Unsullied corpses lay at Gendry's feet, blood pooling around them.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from fгeewebnovёl.co𝙢.

Four Unsullied followed, attacking Gendry with shields, spears, and short swords. Most of their helmets had only a single iron spike, and their expressionless faces seemed cast in bronze. The Unsullied did not fear the death of their comrades.

Gendry raised his oak shield and took a step back, his other hand lifting his warhammer. Ordinary men did not possess his strength and agility. His nimble steps were like those of a shadow panther, and Gendry began to conserve his energy.

Four spears lunged at him, the Unsullied moving in unison. When they realized Gendry was a significant threat, the Unsullied decided to eliminate him first.

"Clang!" A spear thrust struck Gendry's black scale armor. Though fierce, the Unsullied did not coat their weapons with poison. Compared to the Myrish, they were still warriors of honorable combat.

Though the spear did not pierce the scale armor, the force of the thrust was still painfully jarring. The Unsullied were well-trained light infantry, their strength not to be underestimated.

Gendry even saw the Unsullied's resolute gaze. "Yah!" Gendry's hammer swung fiercely, smashing into an Unsullied's faceplate, shattering his cheek. The Unsullied fell with a thud.

The remaining three Unsullied retracted their spears and lunged upward at Gendry's throat.

Gendry swiftly dodged backward, his movement incredibly swift. Like a deer leaping through the forest, he nimbly avoided the branches. The searing pain in his chest only fueled his rage.

"Thwip!" An arrow from Dick the Maker's longbow followed, helping Gendry pierce an Unsullied's eye socket.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!" Gendry seized the moment, hammering away, again and again, until the Unsullied's shield began to shatter. Brute force was a double-edged sword; Gendry's arm ached from the effort. His warhammer shattered the shield, then the faceplate, and finally the face.

"Let's go!" Handsome shouted, leading the charge. But his cry was met with an attack. A Myrish mercenary's crossbow fired twice at him. Handsome dodged the first shot, but the second bolt still found its mark in his left arm.

Dick the Maker's yew longbow sent a cold greeting, killing the Myrish mercenary. Dick had no words to spare, but his longbow was deadly accurate.

"Thank you so much, Dick!" Handsome's face grew even paler.

"Save your strength! It looks like this old man still has some life left in him, at least for now, to cover your retreat," Dick said with a smile.

"Your wound!" Dick noticed the blood dripping from Handsome's injury.

"I'll be fine! Let's get out of Myr first!" Handsome was forced out.

Gendry sheathed his hammer, also abandoning any thoughts of capturing the Unsullied. The Unsullied were the best guards, but the situation was too chaotic; there was no time to capture them.

The Wolf Pack's wedge formation shifted direction. In the outer city of Myr, the iron wall formed by the Unsullied would slow them down even if they were all killed. The best course was to return to the smuggler's passage and escape Myr.

"Let's go!" The Wolf Pack broke free from the Unsullied's range and charged towards the Myrish mercenaries instead.

On the other side, the Myrish mercenary force, though numerous, was no iron wall like the Unsullied. They were a mix of mercenaries, guards, and gladiators.

The Wolf Pack charged back fiercely, led by Handsome, towards the smuggler's passage.

"Charge!"

The knights of the Wolf Pack were like a storm, with the older or severely wounded mercenaries voluntarily forming the outer layer to protect the captain and their comrades.

The Wolf Pack, after all, had the blood of the North. Sacrificing oneself for friends and family was a long-standing tradition in the North. When the first snow fell, the elderly, young children, unmarried, childless, homeless, and those unable to support themselves had to leave home, giving their kin a better chance to see the next spring. Though the Wolf Pack had come to Myr, they still upheld this tradition.

In the alleys of Myr, many of the Wolf Pack's old mercenaries had fallen, along with horses that had lost their masters or were riddled with arrows, neighing in agony.

Through the dark passage, Handsome led the survivors. Before the second dawn broke, they finally boarded the ship of the Lysene pirate king.

A band of mercenaries covered in blood, sweat, and fury, with no sign of Greybeard among them, already knew what had happened.

"Old friend, I thought you wouldn't make it back!" the Lysene pirate Sallador said. "But I'm glad to see you!"

"Thank you for your mercy, Sallador!"

"You look a bit worse for wear, old friend. It seems Myr no longer welcomes you! Are you ready? Old friend!" Sallador said. "Come back to Lys with me. I need good men like you! Whether it's legitimate or not-so-legitimate maritime business, I need strong warriors! I appreciate you!"

"We need to think about it!" Handsome said. "Can I borrow your cabin for a moment, old friend! I've taken a bit of an arrow wound."

Maester Qyburn stepped forward, noticing the arrow wound on Handsome's arm. Qyburn lifted Handsome's armor to examine the arrow-pierced limb, the blood in the wound turning a purplish-black.

Qyburn quickly took Handsome to the cabin to treat the wound with a sharp blade. After a while, Qyburn emerged from the cabin and let the remaining Wolf Pack soldiers in. Lance, Dick the Maker, Steel Fist, Gendry.

Handsome signaled for Qyburn to announce some news.

"I'm sorry!" Qyburn sighed, his face etched with wrinkles. "The Myrish arrows were poisoned. I did my best to save Handsome's arm. The arm is saved, but he will lose most of the sensation and won't be able to wield a weapon!"

"The captain is gone! The captain handed me the head wolf ring!" Handsome continued, the Wolf Pack not weeping, only filled with rage.

"The Wolf Pack never forgets."

"The Wolf Pack never forgets."

"There's another piece of news I need to announce!" Handsome went on.

"This ring, this ring should go to Gendry!" Handsome took the wolf-head ring off his finger and handed it to Gendry.

"The head wolf needs a hand. I don't like being called the Wolf Pack's cripple. The position is yours now, lad. If you want to leave the Wolf Pack, I won't mind!"

"This appointment is too heavy!" Gendry shook his head.

"Listen to me, lad! We're all hearty warriors. When men meet, it's about sincerity and camaraderie. The Wolf Pack doesn't like the Myrish way of insincere elections. The head wolf of the Wolf Pack needs to be the bravest and smartest wolf!" Handsome explained.

"The position in the Wolf Pack is not a plum job for you! You're too young, yet you have to bear responsibilities twice your age. But I see strength, strength, and wisdom in you. The Disputed Lands are a chaotic place; you can't survive without these two weapons!" Dick the Maker also spoke up.

Gendry carefully examined the ring, a wolf-head ring made of black iron and bronze, the wolf's image soaring as if flying.

"I will obey the new captain's command! Until death!" Handsome knelt first, one knee on the ground.

Then the others, all the remaining Wolf Pack soldiers.

From this moment on, Gendry was the captain of the Wolf Pack, the commander of the Wolf Pack.