Chapter 70: Lifting the Hammer

King Robert dragged his increasingly fat body up to the royal box and walked toward his seat.

The clamor of the crowd around him made his mood even worse; before this, Cersei had ruined his good spirits for hosting the Tourney by forbidding him from participating in the Melee, and the fact that he couldn't fit into his breastplate this morning had dealt another blow to his mood.

Just as the King was about to sit down, a burst of whispering among the commoners caught his attention.

"Oh! By the Seven, is that real?"

"I think it might be hollow inside; if it were solid, who could lift it?"

"Even if it is hollow, it still looks terrifying."

Robert looked in the direction where the spectators in King's Landing were focusing their gazes, and then he, too, felt a sense of doubt.

That golden-armored, red-horse-riding Knight, who had fought his way into the final four yesterday, was carrying a peerless Great Hammer toward the nearby Melee arena.

The hammer head looked slightly larger than a human head, and the cold light flashing on the tips of the hammer spikes looked particularly menacing.

It was much larger than Robert's own war hammer.

One must know that for a Hammer used by a normal warrior, the hammer head is only the size of an adult male's fist.

Even then, there are not many who can wield one.

The King, whose flesh had grown soft from inactivity, was most proud of his own exploits in killing enemies on the battlefield with a war hammer.

Sixteen years ago, the scene of winning three victories in one day beside the ruins of Summerhall was still vivid in his mind; back then, with a war hammer in hand, the world was his.

Barristan, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, also saw the Great Hammer, and seeing the King's look of doubt, he explained:

"Your Grace, that might be a prop; it is likely not solid."

"Even if it is a prop, this is just too..."

Robert stood up abruptly and walked toward the Knight.

Barristan and several white cloaks followed.

"Too what?" the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard asked.

"Too much to my liking," the King replied to his high-ranking court official in his usual booming voice.

Since the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard is usually a top-tier Knight and warrior of Westeros, and his military command ability is also first-rate, he is usually a member of the Small Council.

Barristan, following behind the King, shook his head, feeling amused by the fat King whose children were almost old enough to be married.

Arthur placed his Great Hammer at the edge of the Melee arena and then had his servant Meidan watch it.

Although no thief could steal a heavy weapon of this caliber, having someone watch it could prevent curious idlers from touching it.

Especially since he had attracted so many eyes along the way.

But as soon as Arthur turned around, he saw a group of idlers surrounding them.

Originally, he wanted to wave his hand and tell these people to go find somewhere cool to stay, but upon seeing the person leading them, Arthur forcibly swallowed the words that were about to pop out of his mouth.

He couldn't exactly tell the King to go find somewhere cool to stay, could he?

"By the Seven, this should be my weapon."

For some reason, Robert felt this Great Hammer was very much to his liking.

"Since I have seen it, it is mine."

Robert walked toward the Great Hammer, preparing to lift it and play with it.

"If you can lift it over your head, then giving it to the King is no problem," Arthur said with a light laugh.

This was his own grass-cutting tool prepared for the battlefield; how could he let this soon-to-be-dead great stag take it away?

Although Robert was also a top-tier warrior of Westeros and possessed unusually great strength, it was still impossible for him to lift this Great Hammer over his head.

"Lifting it over my head is simple enough!" Robert glanced at Arthur, remembering that more than a week ago he had handled a matter involving him and a relative of the Lannister family.

"If I lift it over my head, let's consider this a gift from you for me upholding justice, how about that?"

"Fine, please, Your Grace, lift the hammer," Arthur said, gesturing with his hand.

In ancient times, Ying Dang died lifting a tripod; perhaps today, Robert might kick the bucket lifting a hammer.

The onlookers had great confidence in the King and cheered for Robert one after another.

A few Kingsguard chuckled and shook their heads at Arthur, not knowing what they were thinking.

The master of the Iron Throne took off his crown, let Arthur hold it, then bent down to grab the hammer handle and took a deep breath.

"Heave—"

Robert used all his strength, and his face turned bright red.

Yet he could only lift the Great Hammer a hand's breadth off the ground.

Is this Great Hammer actually solid? the King thought to himself, feeling a bit embarrassed.

After trying to exert force again and confirming that he truly could not lift it, Robert let go, letting the hammer slam heavily onto the ground.

The scene the commoners expected—the King lifting it with ease—did not happen; they only felt the vibration of the ground.

"This is too exaggerated, right? Even His Grace can't lift it."

"Why even bother with a Melee? Wouldn't anyone who gets hit by this Great Hammer just die?"

The surrounding Knights and free warriors discussed it heatedly.

The Kingsguard had also been startled by the fact that Robert could not lift the Great Hammer.

"Could it really be a giant hammer?" Barristan stepped forward quickly, wanting to try it himself.

But his performance was even worse than Robert's, only managing half a hand's breadth off the ground.

Considering he was already a fifty-year-old man, being able to maintain that level of strength was a remarkable thing.

"Just how great is your strength?"

Robert no longer mentioned the hammer, and after taking back his crown, he asked.

"Perhaps the greatest in the entire continent!"

The King nodded, "Even The Mountain could not do this so easily."

The crowd fell silent for a moment, but soon someone spoke up and asked:

"Is it really solid?"

Robert, who was preparing to leave, cast a cold glance at the person who asked, "I can't even lift it, could it be fake?"

The King was not yet forty years old and in his prime; although his indulgences had drained much of his stamina, his explosive strength was not much different from his peak.

"I'd like to give it a try." This man carried a Longbow as tall as himself on his back and wore a filthy sleeveless leather vest, revealing his exaggerated bicep muscles.

"Then come and try?" Arthur invited.

The man did not stand on ceremony; under the gaze of the King and a large crowd of Knights and commoners, he walked out of the crowd, ran to the side of the giant hammer, bent over, reached out, and began to lift it.

"Hnnngh!" His performance was much better than Robert's and Barristan's; he managed to lift the hammer to his chest, but could not go any further.

He let go, and the hammer hitting the ground caused an even more violent tremor than before.

"What's the point of a Melee? One strike and everyone would be minced meat," the man lamented.

Robert felt this point was reasonable.

Cersei's suggestion from last night that he should not participate in the Melee suddenly became sensible.

His foul mood also improved significantly.

The King strode back to the royal box, deciding to be nothing more than a spectator today.

This little interlude passed quickly, and Arthur also mounted Red Hare to prepare for the first jousting final of the day.

What he did not know was that because of his shocking giant hammer, a considerable number of people abandoned the idea of participating in the afternoon's Melee.

The draw for the jousting finals was quite interesting; the Knight of Flowers, Loras, was still matched against The Mountain, while Arthur had to face The Mountain's brother, The Hound.

PS: Seeking recommendation tickets and monthly votes.

(End of this chapter)