Eagle of the Valley of Ice and Fire

Chapter 212 Martial Arts Tournament (9)

"Sir Michael Redford from the Vale! Son of Earl Horton of Red Base, versus" the referee's voice was high and his arms were waving passionately, inciting the emotions of the audience up and down the platform, "Son of Earl of Seaside City! Patrick Sir C. Mallister!"

Michelle took the spear handed by the attendant and looked through the gap in his visor at Patrick Mallister, who was still enjoying the cheers of the audience and waving to the audience.

He turned his head slightly and looked at the high platform where the lords and nobles were sitting. His father, Holden Redford, boasted proudly while shaking his money bag with his hand to participate in the bets of the competition.

Moving his eyes slightly to the right, Duke Attis was sitting there, looking at him.

Michelle let out a long breath, crossed her legs, and the horse slowly walked towards the competition venue.

I am the knight of the valley, the best swordsman in the valley. Michelle raised his spear and looked straight into the distance.

"The competition begins!" The referee's voice did not even cover the excited and reveling audience. Michelle kicked her legs suddenly and ran over.

Attis glanced beside him and saw that the seats originally prepared for Myrcella were empty. At last night's banquet, he did not expect Myrcella to participate in the valley's strategizing so early, win over the nobles for him, and promote the marriage. Much more skilled and natural than myself.

The Eagle's Nest City, which is towering and isolated and does not tolerate complicated etiquette, and the Runestone City, which advocates the art of knights and adheres to the traditions of the valley. Attis has only received the influence and aristocratic education from these two places since he was a child. Naturally, he is not as good as the skills and knowledge in this area. Myrcella lives deep in the King's Landing Palace and often attends banquets.

Artis shook his head slightly and turned his gaze to the field.

The stampede of war horses and the confrontation between spears and shields are the most exciting. The cheers of the audience are like rising waves, one after another hitting the sky of the venue. No other words can be heard in the surrounding air. The only noise was the roar of the crowd, like a tsunami of exclamations.

"Crack!"

This was the second time that Michel's spear broke. He grabbed the mane of the horse under his crotch, forcibly turned the horse's head, and stared at the other end of the battle.

A wave of disappointment suddenly came over. Just now, the heir to Seaside City had lost his center of gravity and leaned back, seemingly shaky. But when he returned, Patrick Mallister was sitting steadily on the horse again, holding up his shield and aiming his spear. Own.

"drink!"

Knowing that he couldn't waste time, Michel kicked his legs again, waved his riding crop, lowered his spear slightly, and cut his shield across his left side to protect his arm, revealing his broad breastplate, and rushed towards Patrick.

It’s not easy to be a hero. Attis looked at the young Michelle. The blue cloak of the valley and the red ribbon symbolizing the Redford family on the spear were fluttering in the wind. The center of gravity of his body was completely leaning towards the boundaries of the competition venue. Side, almost lying on the north side of the horse.

To take the initiative to expose a flaw, you generally need to ensure that you are faster than the opponent, but from the previous two turning charges, it can be seen that the speeds of Patrick and Michelle are not much different, but the latter's momentum and strength are better.

But Michelle gave up her advantage and chose to place the shield on one side, taking the initiative to expose her chest and expose her flaws to lure Patrick into taking the bait.

"Oh!"

The spear hit the breastplate and shattered immediately.

Michelle's vision was suddenly dazzled. He grabbed the reins desperately, and the sound of the horse's neighing echoed throughout the competition venue.

"Oh!~" The audience exclaimed, but Michelle, just like Patrick in the previous round, stabilized his upper body again when he was on the verge of falling, panting and turning the horse's head.

Ange walked behind Attis and leaned close to his ear. "The flow of people is very large. It is difficult for the cavalry team of attendants to maintain order."

Attis was speechless, nodded slightly, and watched the competition scene intently.

"Back up!" The valley cavalry shouted loudly, waving their spears and kicking their front horses' hooves upward, forcing the civilians in front of him to push back.

The cavalry rode back and forth around the crowd, their spears hitting their shields constantly, trying to attract the crowd with a clanging sound.

However, it was of no use. The originally somewhat orderly crowd was completely thrown into chaos by the surge of shouts in front of them, and they rushed in all directions in a chaotic manner. "Back up! Back up!" The cavalryman could only shout anxiously as he looked at the civilians running away from him, but no one listened.

Trampling, singing, roaring, shouting. The security cavalry looked at the out-of-control crowd at a loss, with only an ethereal buzzing in their ears.

David Destin glanced at the bewildered cavalry and looked around warily, surrounded by the riverland civilians who were completely overwhelmed by the smell.

He stretched out his hand to pull the breathless monk from the gap, "I can create chaos and let the sparrows pass as quickly as possible."

The monk was startled by the ferocity in Baron Destin's expression. He swallowed his throat and asked, "How to make it?"

"Seven Gods bless you." Baron Destin raised the corner of his mouth and took out the dagger from his sleeve. The monk's own face was reflected on the shining dagger.

"No, Sir Theodore will not agree to harm civilians, let alone the Seven Gods." The monk put his hand on the dagger and whispered to dissuade him.

Baron Destin pushed away the monk's hand and said, "Everything is fate. This cursed castle is the residence of strangers, so the death of civilians is nothing." He ignored the monk and walked deeper into the crowd alone.

"Baron Destin, Baron Destin!" the monk called urgently, but to no avail. He was blocked by countless arms, and he could only watch Baron Destin disappear into the crowd.

"Princess?" Dokasha smiled and looked at Myrcella who woke up from her sleep, "I was happy for you all night last night!"

"What?" Myrcella rubbed her sleepy eyes, feeling a dull pain in her head. "Did I do nothing wrong?"

"What's wrong? It's such a great thing!" Dokasha became more and more enthusiastic as she spoke, and the knitting movements in her hands became a little faster.

"You don't know!" Dorcasa said with a smile, with a fluctuating tone, "Duke Attis personally sent you back and told me to take good care of you. If you can't wake up during the tournament, you don't have to go. That’s it.” After saying that, he shook his head to himself and kept making “tsk, tsk” sounds in his mouth.

"Tournament?" Myrcella shook her head, tugged on her black hair, and jumped off the bed. "I think, according to my obligation, I must go."

"Don't be in a hurry, princess. The competition lasts for two weeks and this is only the first day. Why should you be anxious?" Dokasa tried to dissuade her from behind, "Wash up and get dressed. There are a lot of these."

"Hurry up." Myrcella was already sitting in front of the dressing table, looking at herself in the mirror, urging softly.

Sir Alex's voice came from outside the house, "Ahem! Your Highness, is it convenient for you to see someone?"

Dorcasa directly refused, shouting "Inconvenient!" while walking behind Myrcella, the wooden comb in her hand skillfully passed through the princess's silky hair.

Myrcella raised her hand to stop, glanced at Dokasha rather complainingly, and responded to Sir Arys outside the door: "It's convenient, please come in."

"Perhaps it's an important person around the Duke." Myrcella looked at the mirror again and explained to Dokasha.

The door clicked open, and the person who entered the room was not the "important person around the Duke" as Myrcella said, but the iconic blond hair and the familiar white helmet.

There is only one person in the Kingsguard who possesses such physical characteristics.

"Uncle Jaime?" Myrcella looked up at Jaime's golden mask and said uncertainly.

James stared at Myrcella's black hair through the eye holes of the golden mask, his mouth seemed to be choked and unable to speak.

　I've been having trouble updating recently, and I'm also having troubles. First, my typing has been slow and I haven't saved my manuscript. Second, my kids are getting upset, and I'm in the countryside, so the environment isn't going well.

　　MD is still an update

　　This book supports everyone in raising books. The original income can only be regarded as extra money, there is no real subsidy, and there is no part-time job. I just want to finish the story of Attis. It is a protracted battle.

　　

　

(End of this chapter)