"Father!"
Edmure watched his father fall, feeling as if he had been struck by lightning.
He stood there, dumbfounded, hardly daring to believe his eyes. He couldn't believe that his father, who had always seemed as immovable as a mountain, had fallen.
The heir of Riverrun's eyes turned red, tears swirling in his eyes. He drew his sword and roared, charging forward.
William Mooton, the portly Count of Maidenpool, had not been at the forefront of the battle. He had wanted to stay in the back, but for some reason, he came face to face with the red-eyed Edmure. Despite William's own skill with a sword, he was no match for the young and vigorous Edmure.
Clang, clang—
The sound of metal clashing rang out. After only a few exchanges, the Count of Maidenpool was pierced through the chest by Edmure's sword. The gleaming tip of the sword protruded from his back, and blood stained his armor.
William Mooton had joined the rebels in a bid to survive, but he hadn't expected to die within Riverrun. His eyes were filled with regret, and blood flowed from the corner of his mouth.
William Mooton's body was kicked to the ground by Edmure, who pulled his sword from the corpse with a squelch. Enraged, Edmure strode forward with his bloodied sword, cutting down another rebel soldier.
"Kill!"
The shouts of battle echoed throughout Riverrun. The death of Lord Tully did not calm anyone down or lead to surrender. Instead, it intensified the conflict. The rebels and the soldiers of House Tully engaged in fierce combat throughout the city.
The noise of battle had awakened Hoster Tully, and it had also alerted Robert Baratheon, who was recuperating within the castle, and his Kingsguard.
"Seven hells... Can anyone tell me what the hell is happening out there?!"
Robert Baratheon lay in his sickbed, his chest still bandaged, but he was able to sit up.
The arrow that had pierced his chest had nearly taken his life, but Robert was a hard man to kill.
Now, Robert tried to get up from his bed to see what was happening outside, but he was held back by his Kingsguard commander, Barristan Selmy.
"Your Grace, there are rebels attacking the city. It's too dangerous to go out now."
"I will protect you here."
The old knight with white hair held his sword in one hand, his expression serious.
It was easy to guess what was happening outside.
The defeat of the allied forces during the day had practically sealed Riverrun's fate. Seeing the situation deteriorate, the nobles within the city naturally didn't want to share Riverrun's fate and were bound to stir up trouble.
Due to the unique defensive structure of Riverrun, it was not easy to break through the city from the inside. Therefore, the rebels wanted to attack the main castle first, capture Lord Tully and King Robert, and use them as hostages to force House Tully to surrender Riverrun.
At this moment, shouts proclaiming the death of Lord Tully echoed from the battlefield below.
"What?"
Upon hearing the news of Hoster Tully's death, the faces of those in the room changed slightly, except for Ser Meryn Trant of the Kingsguard, who was sitting on a chair on the other side.
Meryn Trant's eyes flickered as he stealthily glanced at the bare-chested king and his commander, Barristan Selmy. Ser Mandon Moore was standing guard at the door, ready to fend off any rebels who might break in.
Robert once again demanded to go out and see for himself, but was refused by the Kingsguard commander. After a few arguments, Robert failed to persuade the stubborn old man and sat back down on the bed in frustration.
Robert couldn't go out himself, but he ordered Mandon Moore, who was guarding the door, to go out and see what was happening. Was Lord Tully really in trouble?
"Yes, Your Grace."
Ser Mandon Moore, clad in a white cloak, also looked serious. He nodded slightly and pushed the door open to go out, leaving only King Robert, Barristan Selmy, and Meryn Trant in the room.
However, they waited for a while but did not see Ser Mandon Moore return. Instead, they heard his screams.
"Halt! What are you doing!"
Ser Mandon Moore's voice was urgent, both shocked and angry, followed by the sound of clashing swords.
Clang, clang—
It seemed that Ser Mandon Moore had killed two men, but then he himself let out a scream.
"Ah—"
Suddenly, there were sounds of intense fighting and footsteps spiraling up the stairs from the bottom of the castle.
"Quick! Quick!"
"Capture Robert Baratheon alive!"
"Capture the false king!"
It turned out that the rebels, under the command of Jonos, were unable to directly attack the main castle of Riverrun. The cunning Jonos had sent several skilled men to climb the walls from the other side of the castle using ropes.
The rebels had opened a passage from within the castle, and a portion of the rebel forces had flooded into the castle. The main battlefield had shifted from outside the castle to inside.
Many rebels, holding torches, rushed up the stairs to the top of the castle. They kicked open the door to Lord Tully's room, but the old Lord, who had been shot in the chest, was already dead, his body gradually losing warmth.
Then the rebels cut off Lord Tully's head, held it high by the hair, and passed it around like a ball. Finally, it was impaled on a spear.
"Hoster Tully is dead!"
Not far from Lord Tully's room, King Robert's bedroom was also under heavy attack from the rebels.
But the 'Fearless' Barristan Selmy, Commander of the Kingsguard, stood alone at the door, fighting fiercely. He had sustained multiple injuries but continued to fight, repelling several rebel attacks, like a war god.
After all, the entrance to the bedroom was small, and the numerical advantage was compressed to a small range. If they couldn't get past the Kingsguard commander, no one could harm King Robert Baratheon.
"Who can kill me!"
Barristan Selmy, his white hair and beard stained with blood, stood at the door with his sword. His white robe was soaked with blood.
As a legendary knight known throughout the world, he had momentarily deterred the rebel soldiers, who were somewhat hesitant to move forward.