Bronn bit into a large steak and gulped down a mouthful of strong liquor.
Leaning against a large tree, he savored the long-awaited food and warmth.
His gaze constantly drifted towards this strange Riverlands army.
In the camp, bonfires glowed, and cooking smoke curled upwards.
Soldiers took turns heading to the small town for special services.
He hoped that by tomorrow morning, they would still be alive.
Strange, truly very strange.
This Riverlands army, their equipment was not top-notch.
Their numbers were only about two hundred people.
But each of them exuded a strange killing intent.
There was a scent of blood.
They were not like noble house guards, nor like conscripted commoners.
They lacked the arrogance of noble house guards and the confusion, clumsiness, and fear of conscripted commoners.
This time, it wasn't his intention.
With his years of experience wandering Westeros.
He had seen all sorts of Westeros people.
From Dorne to the North.
This group of people truly resembled bandits.
Or sellswords.
However, every single one of them was very rich!
And they actually paid for things!
Bronn's cheek twitched.
He had always been the one to initiate, but this time, he was truly on the defensive!
Those six soldiers, as soon as they saw him.
No shouting, no warnings.
Without a word, they drew their swords and charged.
They wanted to cut him down.
And they were practically fighting over who got to kill him!
Like hungry wolves fighting over food.
Yes, he knew what this feeling was!
A pack of wolves!
No, he had to get out of here quickly!
These people didn't look like good folk!
"What are you looking at!" a hoarse, nasal voice interrupted his observation!
Bronn looked up and saw it was the messenger rider he had beaten until his nose bled profusely.
He had clearly washed his face, but the bruises and swelling were still shocking, and his eyes were full of anger.
Around him were five equally angry soldiers, all of whom he had injured.
Bronn twitched the corner of his mouth, chewing the meat in his mouth.
"Looking at you all," he replied indistinctly.
The rider's face flushed red, and he was about to step forward but was held back by an injured soldier beside him.
The injured soldier's hand pointed to a spot.
It was Lucien walking towards them.
The rider glared at Bronn resentfully and left with the surrounding injured soldiers.
"Arthur wants to see you," Lucien said no more, only watching Bronn warily with his eyes.
Bronn stood up and stretched his neck: "Lead the way!"
Arthur looked at the man standing opposite him with interest.
A lean build, black hair, black eyes, and messy stubble.
The animal skin he had been wearing had been replaced.
Now he was dressed in a black commoner's cloth.
One would never guess he was a top Swordsman in Westeros.
If it weren't for Arthur happening to know Bronn's name.
A famous person in this Westeros World.
And his unbelievably absurd ending in the show.
"Does the Lord want to see me?" Bronn felt unnerved by his gaze.
He always felt as if this young man knew him.
As if he could see right through him.
"Didn't you break out of Deep Valley City to find reinforcements?"
"I am!" Arthur leaned back in his chair, smiling as he looked at Bronn.
How could a mercenary like Bronn, who prioritized pragmatism above all else.
Risk his life to find reinforcements for a castle that could fall at any moment?
He would only find a way to survive.
Arthur suspected it wasn't at all as he claimed.
He had simply fled from Deep Valley City.
"Are you Suleiman Foul Castle, Esquire?" Bronn was somewhat taken aback, but his expression didn't show it.
How unlucky, could anything be more unlucky than this!
He cleared his throat, trying to hide that momentary awkwardness.
"Deep Valley City is in peril, Lord Lofo's food is running out!"
He paused, observing Arthur's expression, but saw only calmness.
"Lord Lofo is very angry with you, believing that you... you left them to die!"
Lofo Deep Valley was the noble lord of Deep Valley City.
Many minor nobles in the Westeros World who lacked a deep heritage liked to use their fiefdoms as their family names.
However, Arthur's expression remained unchanged.
He stood up, and his surrounding guards drew their longswords.
At the same time, he tilted his head, signaling Lucien and Hakon.
The two were already standing behind Bronn and immediately forced Bronn to his knees!
Bronn was taken aback: "What are you doing! Lord Arthur!"
His mind raced; he could take down a few people.
But he didn't think he could take down ten people, or even the more than two hundred people outside, so he wasn't going to resist.
And he didn't even know what he had done.
Could it be that this young noble thought he had offended his authority by beating up his six soldiers?
Arthur decided to bluff him.
He picked up a piece of parchment, but from Bronn's perspective, he couldn't tell if there was any writing on it.
At the same time, he plunged a dining knife fiercely into the table.
"This is Lord Lofo Deep Valley's plea for aid to me!" Arthur said expressionlessly, "And the letter demands that I apprehend a mercenary who took payment and fled!"
"Lord Arthur, you... what do you mean?" Bronn's face changed several times, finally deflating like a punctured ball, and he spoke dryly.
At this time, Bronn was only twenty years old, not yet possessing the cunning shrewdness of his future self.
"So! You admit you fled from Deep Valley City?" Arthur was expressionless.
Lucien drew the short dagger from his waist and held it horizontally against Bronn's neck.
The blade was so close to his throat that Bronn had to try and control his Adam's apple from moving.
He knew all his disguises had been torn away, leaving him stark naked beneath Arthur's gaze.
He increasingly felt that this young noble knew him, having seen right through him from the very beginning.
In front of him, he felt like he had been stripped naked, standing exposed before him.
"No! My Lord! You really have it wrong! I truly came here for reinforcements!"
"Since Deep Valley City is in peril, and you, My Lord, are unwilling to help... then... then may I be allowed to leave first, to return and deliver the message?"
Bronn spoke hoarsely, clinging to a last shred of hope.
Arthur looked at Lucien.
Lucien instantly understood, pressing the short blade closer to Bronn's neck, and blood seeped out.
"Wait! Wait! My Lord!"
"I admit it! I admit it! I truly did escape from Deep Valley City!"
"That damned broken city! It won't last much longer!"
"I don't want to die in there!"
Arthur snapped his fingers, and Lucien took the knife away.
Bronn, still kneeling, bowed deeply, hands on the ground, breathing heavily!
Relieved that his throat hadn't been slit!
"My Lord! I truly did escape from the city!"
"That city won't last much longer!"
"The soldiers are exhausted! Food is scarce!"
"Lord Lofo is indeed very angry with you."
Bronn's face turned pale; he could no longer maintain any pretense.
"My Lord! Aside from the fact that I came out for reinforcements! There is truly not a single false word!"
Arthur waved his hand.
The guards on both sides sheathed their swords.
"Very good!"
Bronn saw the young noble named Arthur smile.