Chapter 73: Melee

The Melee held in the afternoon went very smoothly.

At least, that was how it looked in Arthur's eyes.

The competition was held inside a circular wooden fence, where over thirty warriors swarmed in, fighting in a chaotic mess.

Most people were wearing full sets of Plate Armor and lamellar armor, while some of the poorer warriors wore layers of Chainmail.

The weapons were also diverse, ranging from two-handed Greatswords, Spears, and Hammers to scimitars, with everything one could imagine.

However, all types of weapons combined did not attract as much attention as the giant hammer Arthur carried.

The crowd watching the event was either arguing about who could take Arthur down or discussing exactly how heavy that hammer was.

Due to the absence of The Mountain and The Hound, Arthur appeared to have no rivals.

Most of the participating Knight nobles had already learned in the morning that a warrior wielding an incredibly heavy giant hammer would be competing in the Melee, so they wisely avoided Arthur and let others go first.

Coincidentally, the vast majority of people thought the same way.

Thus, after Arthur smashed some poor fellow's leg with one swing of his hammer, no one dared to step forward to challenge him again.

This left him standing all alone in the center of the fenced-in circle, watching the other contestants prefer to fight each other to the death rather than step forward to challenge Arthur.

"Go up and take him!"

"Go and knock down that man with the hammer."

"Why are you cowards? Go have a match with Arthur."

The shouts from outside the arena rose one after another, all urging the remaining people to fight Arthur.

Yet, this shouting continued until only a few people were left in the arena, and still, no one truly initiated a challenge.

Arthur noticed that King Robert, who was chugging ale while waving his fists, was shouting the loudest.

Finally, only two people remained in the arena.

Thoros of Myr, the Red Priest, and Arthur.

Thoros was a bald, middle-aged battle-mage; the small bun of hair standing on top of his head was his only stubborn defiance against his baldness.

"Hey! Do you know what a Flaming Sword is?"

Thoros, wearing Chainmail, stroked the blade, and the sword in his hand instantly ignited with roaring flames.

"Then do you know what a giant hammer is?"

Arthur raised his hammer and walked toward Thoros.

Metal bends easily when heated; Arthur was sure to win this match.

"Let's get this straight, no smashing the feet. That hit you gave The Mountain this morning made my feet ache just watching it," Thoros said, circling around and offering a reminder as he saw Arthur approaching.

He didn't have the money to buy Iron Boots, and if he were hit squarely on the foot, he probably wouldn't be able to walk for the rest of his life.

"Does that mean I can smash anything except the feet?" Arthur asked in return.

"Why are you such a barbarian?" Thoros swung his Flaming Sword and made a probing thrust.

Arthur was wearing silver Quanshen Banji; such a probing sword thrust couldn't break his defense at all, so he ignored the Red Priest's attack, swung his giant hammer, and charged over.

"You're actually playing for real?" Thoros hurriedly dodged, retreating a few steps in the face of Arthur to create some distance.

The Iron Armor he wore only covered his torso and upper arms, with the rest being leather armor; he didn't dare to go head-to-head with Arthur at all.

Moreover, Arthur hadn't wasted much stamina from the start of the fight until now, whereas he had been fighting from beginning to end and was already very tired.

Could it be that I've worked hard all day just to hand a championship to this brat?

Thoros was unwilling, but he truly had no good way to break the deadlock.

He could only circle around to slowly recover his stamina, praying that the Lord of Light would give him a hint for victory.

"Red Priest, go on and fight! Being this cowardly is not your style," Robert shouted.

Watching the battle, he didn't look like a King at all, but rather like a long-retired soldier.

In fact, most of the people present knew the King.

Considering that Robert always considered himself a warrior, and most warriors were short on cash.

So, the King holding the Tourney in others' names and offering high prize money took on a strange, additional meaning.

It felt quite like providing relief to the old brothers who had fought on the battlefield together.

"Thoros was indeed very brave when suppressing the rebellion in the Iron Islands," Barristan recalled, "but against this Arthur, bravery alone won't solve the problem."

Duke Eddard nodded, "A warrior like this, fully armored and wielding heavy weapons, is best taken down with a Crossbow or Trebuchet; otherwise, you have to fill the gap with human lives."

"But if Thoros keeps dodging like this, Arthur might be the one to collapse first. After all, the stamina consumption of wearing Plate Armor and holding a giant hammer is far greater than holding a hand-and-a-half sword."

Barristan expressed it this way.

His white hair attested to his experience, and these words were acknowledged by most of the people around him.

"Let's place a bet on who wins," the lighthearted voice of Duke Renly rang out.

The Knight of Flowers, Loras, followed behind his troublemaker.

Because Renly was knocked off his horse by The Hound yesterday, and Loras was dealt a heavy blow by The Mountain, both of them were absent from the Melee.

"I bet on Arthur to win, one hundred Gold Dragons," Loras called out.

He now had a mysterious confidence in Arthur.

"I also bet on Arthur to win." Renly was not familiar with either of the two in the arena, so he followed the Knight of Flowers' choice.

"I bet on Thoros to win; he looks much more agile," said Jaime, who was wearing gold armor.

During the last Tourney for Joffrey's twelfth Name Day, he had been knocked off his horse by Loras, which gave him a slight prejudice against the Knight of Flowers.

Consequently, he chose the opposing side.

Robert and the others were older and did not join the betting, but they heard the entire process.

After cheering Thoros on a few more times, he turned to the younger generation and said:

"Thoros still has a better chance of winning. Arthur's Plate Armor and giant hammer are quite draining on stamina; I have deep personal experience with that."

Duke Eddard, Barristan, and the others echoed the King's words.

They were all warriors by trade with a wealth of combat experience, so they could naturally see the key to the situation on the field.

In their eyes, if Arthur continued to chase the Red Priest, he would sooner or later be led around until he was exhausted.

At that point, he would be in a position of being passively beaten.

But clearly, the development of the situation exceeded their imagination.

Two hours later.

"My Lord of Light! How are you still able to move?"

Thoros of Myr, too tired to even swing the sword in his hand, exclaimed weakly.

Before him, Arthur shouted in a voice full of vigor: "Surrender or take a hit from my Hammer?"

Then he raised the giant Hammer.

"I surrender, I surrender..."

Thoros of Myr, who had fantasized about tiring Arthur out by leading him around, had instead been run ragged himself.

Arthur had a good impression of this man and did not make things difficult for him; he lowered the giant Hammer and accepted the cheers of the onlookers.

But his calculations were wrong.

"Is he even human?"

"Why isn't he tired? Could it be that this Plate Armor is just for show?"

"Just that Hammer alone is a struggle for an ordinary person to lift; how could he hold it and chase Thoros of Myr for two hours?"

The commoners voiced their doubts one after another.

King Robert and the others looked speechlessly at the clearly energetic Arthur.

"Hey, you've taken another twenty thousand Gold Dragons from my hands," the master of the Iron Throne shouted, pretending to be angry.

But those who knew him well all knew that the King meant no harm.

"This is what I am owed," Arthur lifted his visor and smiled as he scanned the group.

Before him, Renly and the Flower Knight were arguing about Arthur's exceptional stamina, while the Kingslayer Jaime looked grim.

It was not because he had lost two hundred Gold Dragons, but because he had lost some face.

PS: Seeking recommendation votes and monthly tickets.

(End of this chapter)