Game of Thrones: Summoning the Fourth Calamity

Chapter 69: You may kill me quickly!

Crescent Moon and Iron Lifter's faces lit up with joy. Good heavens, they were just worried about not being able to get in, but the target popped up on its own. What else was there to say?

Unlike villains who ramble on, weightlifters immediately took out the bottle of Wildfire from the cloth bag at their waist, and with a flick of their other hand, the tinderbox was already lit, sparks flying everywhere.

"Back off!"

The man in the red robe, who was closest to the two, saw the green liquid in the transparent bottle in the other's hand and his pupils suddenly contracted. He cried out in terror, backing away while frantically reaching out to try and snatch it.

But the Wildfire bottle in the lifter's hand was thrown out like a Molotov cocktail, forming an arc, aimed directly at King Robert, who was still furious and whose mind was a complete mess.

"Fuck!"

Standing beside the king was his brother, Renly Baratheon, who was also the Lord Chief of the Royal Court. He stood there dumbfounded, realizing the power of the flying object, but his legs felt like lead and he couldn't move.

"Get out of the way!"

At the crucial moment, someone kicked Robert away, but Renly wasn't so lucky.

"what!"

The bottle shattered, and the fierce wildfire inside engulfed Renly, the intense heat unbearable for any human.

The once charming and debonair Lanley is now struggling in the green flames, howling in agony.

"Fuck! No!"

Robert broke free from the man who had saved him; it was none other than his Kingsguard captain, Ser Barristan Selmy.

Robert stared, almost dumbfounded, at his brother, who was now completely burned.

"Catch them!"

Prime Minister Ed shouted, suppressing his rage.

"Damn it! He dodged it!" Lu Tie cursed under his breath, watching the guards rushing towards him like wolves and tigers. He drew his long sword from his waist, ready to fight like a cornered beast.

The red-robed men, their eyes bloodshot, surrounded them. Right under the king's nose, his brother had been burned alive by assassins with wildfire. The king already disliked these Lannister Red Lions soldiers, and it was easy to imagine what fate awaited them after this incident.

The person standing in front of them at this moment was no longer an assassin, but practically their father's killer.

"Give them another Iron Brother!"

"Explosions are art, right?!"

The family members in Yueya's live stream room were enjoying the show, showering her with gifts, making Yueya feel both pain and joy at the same time.

"Damn, if only I had another can," thought the weightlifter who had just been kicked over.

In a short while, the two brothers had their weapons knocked away and were lying on the ground with swords pressed against their necks.

"I should have just committed suicide," Crescent Moon thought with regret. "Damn it, I've had it too easy. I thought I was possessed by Xiang Yu, the Hegemon of Western Chu, taking on dozens of opponents at once. Sigh, I got too cocky."

Crescent Moon and Iron-Pulling exchanged a glance. Just as they were about to log off and let the other player manipulate their characters, Crescent Moon suddenly saw Iron-Pulling give them a meaningful look.

Crescent Moon understood perfectly. Although she was puzzled, she didn't log off. Anyway, she could adjust her pain level at will, so what was there to be afraid of?

"Who sent you?!"

The two were quickly brought before the king, with Ser Barristan standing close by, watching the assassin with a wary expression.

Robert was like an angry brown bear, wishing he could crush the heads of the two bastards in front of him with his bare hands.

Prime Minister Ed also came over at this moment, stood next to the king, and coldly stared at the two assassins.

Littlefinger and Octopus stood far away in the crowd, occasionally revealing expressions of lingering fear.

"Long live the Targaryens! Usurper, you deserve to go to hell!" Even at this moment, Crescent Moon still managed to put on a show for his family.

"Targians!" Robert gritted his teeth. He hated the Targaries to death. The most important woman in his life had been taken away forever by those Targary bastards, and now one of his brothers had been burned alive by them with wildfire.

Seven layers of hell! Gods, how could you allow two remnants of such a family to remain in the world?

"Bring out wildfire! An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth!" Robert said, his eyes bloodshot, each word distinct.

Sir Barristan, standing behind him, opened his mouth but said nothing; he simply stood there ramrod straight.

Sir James, who had returned to his post at some unknown time, stood in place with several other knights, including Marin, seemingly trying to make themselves look as much like statues as possible.

Wildfire! A king using wildfire to fight his enemies—what difference is there between him and a mad king? At this moment, everyone looked at Prime Minister Ed.

"Alas," Ed sighed, turning to Robert.

But before he could speak, Robert said in a commanding tone:

"Ed, I know what you're going to say, but my brother was burned alive by these two bastards with wildfire, and I will never forgive them! I am now ordering you, as the king, to fetch wildfire!"

My father and brothers also died in the wildfire. Ed, with a bitter expression, offered his advice:

"I completely understand your feelings, Your Majesty, but..."

Before the Prime Minister could finish speaking, the King rudely interrupted him:

"I gave an order! This is an order!"

The king practically roared it out, and thank goodness, Robert wasn't just a brooding bear who could only roar; there had simply been too many bad things happening lately.

His younger brother was burned to death before his eyes. How could he control his emotions? Even though he was the king of a country, everyone knew that he had only been king for a few days.

Several men in red robes ran out.

The court officials were gathered here at this moment, but despite the large number of people, there was an eerie silence.

"Though it may be inappropriate, I would like to ask, where is Grand Secretary Paisell?"

Although Varys spoke softly, in such a quiet moment that everyone could hear a pin drop, he naturally attracted everyone's attention.

"Grand Scholar Paisell? He's dead!"

The weightlifter, who had been observing for a while, remained silent until he spoke, at which point he shocked everyone present.

"It seems the assassin also murdered Grand Scholar Paisel. Gods, let us be silent for the Grand Scholar who worked diligently and toiled his whole life."

Varys was visibly shocked for a moment, but quickly concealed it, all his emotions turning into grief so fast that even Littlefinger, standing nearby, was taken aback.

"You also killed Grand Secretary Paisell!"

The courtiers present were all shocked. These two assassins were simply too audacious! And where were the guards? Were all the Lannister red-robed men useless?

Prime Minister Ed took a deep breath, his gaze fixed on the weightlifter with an icy, northern-like intensity.

Lifting Iron didn't even glance at the imposter, while Crescent Moon, standing to the side, adopted a tragic expression as if ready to swiftly behead me, and spat out:

"Bah! Your family has received the nation's favor, yet you aid and abet the wicked; you will not have a good end!"

His unwavering loyalty impressed viewers in the live stream, who exclaimed that he was a true movie star.

Even while lifting weights, he didn't stop, and he really didn't hold back, saying something truly outrageous as he looked at James, who was standing to the side as if nothing had happened:

"My lord, what are you waiting for? Kill the usurper! His Majesty will surely honor the agreement and appoint you as the Guardian of the Southern Border!"