Chapter 21. Killer (Part 2)

"Now, a Lannister always pays his debts, and I propose a new deal," Jon announced loudly, holding up the gold bar. "This gold bar in my hand weighs more than two pounds and is worth 150 gold dragons. Who wants it? Bring me Pycelle's head, and it will belong to you. What's more, you'll become my new squire, and I'll make you a knight within three years."

Pycelle's ominous premonition came true.

Jon's words struck Pycelle's heart like a hammer. "You treacherous bastard!" he roared at Jon. "You broke your oath!" Then he looked in panic at the few loyal men still surrounding Ser Rodrik.

Only now did he realize he had underestimated Jon's ambition. He had thought Jon's payment to the mercenaries as a "reward" was merely a retreat to force a draw.

But Jon's retreat was actually an advance—he was "winning hearts."

Winning the hearts of Rodrik's loyal men.

No sooner had Pycelle finished speaking than he was pulled from his horse by a mercenary beside him, his fat body hitting the ground heavily. When he raised his head, he saw the cold glint of a dagger.

The man who acted was one of Rodrik's own sworn men. He yanked Pycelle off his horse and slit his throat with a single swift stroke.

In his final moments, Pycelle felt unspeakable regret.

If only he had accepted Rodrik's suggestion and let the supposed bastard leave peacefully.

Why had he tried to turn Rodrik's mercenaries against him? No one had even considered disobeying Rodrik's orders until Pycelle opened that door.

He had broken the window first, and the bastard had seized the opportunity to shatter his fortress to pieces.

After killing Pycelle, the mercenary quickly distanced himself from Rodrik and the others. As he backed away, he shouted to Jon: "It was me, my lord! I killed him!"

"I said, whoever brings me his head," Jon responded coldly. At the moment of Pycelle's death, he heard the notification sound from his auxiliary system.

Having achieved his goal, Jon was ready to escape, but before fleeing, he needed to cause a little more chaos.

As soon as he finished speaking, all the mercenaries surged into motion. First, they cut down Pycelle's servants with their swords, then rushed toward the corpse to fight over his head.

Ser Rodrik stood in the midst of the crowd, angrily trying to stop the frenzy, but his efforts were in vain.

Because Jon shouted the next moment: "A Lannister always pays his debts!"

Then he threw the gold bar in his hand. The moment the gold bar landed among the crowd, most of the mercenaries immediately abandoned the fight for Pycelle's head and instead pounced on the gold.

After all, the Lannister lord had already paid—it didn't matter who took the gold in the end.

If this was how to get rich, why shouldn't it be them?

Watching it all unfold, Jon's tense heart finally relaxed. He turned his horse and ordered the knights beside him: "Let's go."

"Just like that?" The green-armored knight seemed surprised.

"What? What's the problem?"

"Look at all this," the knight gestured toward the corpse on the ground. "There's a massacre happening here, and the Tully family's investigators will arrive soon. I don't know your standing in House Lannister, but if it's not high enough, I doubt the Lannisters will quarrel with the Riverlands over a bastard. You'll be wanted."

Jon was stunned. After all his calculations, he had forgotten about the legal consequences. Though this world resembled the Middle Ages where killing seemed commonplace, Westeros had not yet descended into war. The security forces of the Riverlands might well investigate a massacre at this salt mine, and many people had seen the face of this supposed "Lannister bastard."

True, he could simply abandon his false identity and melt down the lion's head on his sword hilt. In an era where wanted posters relied solely on hand-drawn portraits, it would be nearly impossible for law enforcement to catch him.

But he wasn't traveling alone. There were nearly a hundred players in these lands. How many problems might arise from this error?

Jon's heart skipped a beat. He took a deep breath and asked the knight beside him: "How certain would you be if we tried to kill all these witnesses?"

He didn't want to leave this to chance.

"Seven in ten odds at best," the knight said, shaking his head seriously. "If we join the battle now, they'll quickly see our intentions. They'll stop fighting among themselves and unite against us. This terrain doesn't favor mounted combat, and if we dismount, we'll be surrounded. Though most wear light armor, they outnumber us greatly, and some are skilled fighters."

After a pause, the knight added: "Of course, if you give the order, we'll solve everything."

"No," Jon immediately shook his head. These two knights were his greatest assets, and he wouldn't risk them unless absolutely necessary.

What was the difference between 70% certainty and throwing his life away?

Jon looked again at the mercenaries in the distance.

By now, Ser Rodrik had killed both the guard who murdered Pycelle and old Davos who had led the initial rebellion. He now stood with his remaining loyal men facing the mutinous mercenaries.

The mercenary who had grabbed the gold bar stood trembling between the two groups.

"The old captain still commands respect—he's regaining control," Jon observed, then shook his head. "It's too risky for us to intervene now."

"Ser Rodrik!" Jon called out loudly. "It seems you have much to attend to, so I'll trouble you no further. Until we meet again!" After giving Rodrik a provocative look, he spurred his horse away.

The two knights clearly didn't understand Jon's intentions, but they followed his lead, and soon all three were galloping along the Kingsroad.

They had ridden barely two miles when Jon reined in his horse and stopped, turning to look back toward the salt mine.

The two knights halted alongside him.

"I thought you wanted to kill them all," said the green-armored knight.

"Of course I do, but not recklessly," Jon shook his head and explained. "I just provoked those mercenaries to kill Pycelle, destroying the reputation Rodrik has built over years. Then I incited internal conflict within his company, nearly dismantling his forces and his hopes of reclaiming his grandfather's title."

"Now he wants to flay me alive and will never let this go. When he saw us fleeing, he would pursue us immediately, but they have only five horses. The old nags in Pycelle's caravan can barely trot, so at most five men will chase us."

"We need to deal with Rodrik here first, then return to handle the remaining stragglers."

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