Raising his axe, Matthew scanned left and right.
Seeing that these people still hadn't taken down the pair guarding Imry, he was sorely disappointed.
Then, his peripheral vision caught sight of a corpse on the ground.
Matthew grabbed the corpse with both hands, pretending it was an enemy, and slammed it viciously into the crowd surrounding the guard protecting Ser Imry's back.
In the chaotic crush, the greedy Night's Watch traitors had nowhere to dodge.
Two or three people in the back were knocked down instantly.
In panic, people grab at anything, like drowning men clutching at straws.
One person pulled another, and in an instant, a whole swath of people fell like dominoes, from back to front.
The guard behind Ser Imry was among them.
He fell hard and couldn't get up for a long while.
Seeing the guard go down, Matthew held a moment of silence for him while quickly retreating to his original position.
Only Little Fish witnessed all of this.
But seeing Matthew look his way, he immediately covered his mouth with both hands and blinked at him.
Matthew smiled, patted his head, and pushed him back.
The front was a chaotic mess, extremely dangerous.
The traitors were terrified; even before getting up, they were flailing and attacking wildly.
Many were accidentally injured or killed by their own.
Seeing this, the guard tried to scramble up.
But someone saw him trying to rise, hugged his leg tight, and roared:
"He's getting up! Kill him quick, or we won't have another chance!"
The guard panicked, but he couldn't shake the man off no matter how hard he pulled.
He bent down, intending to stab the ambusher.
But the people around him had reacted. Seeing the guard expose himself, they swarmed him.
Several people lunged forward, using all their strength to grab his arms and pin him firmly back to the ground.
Then, someone seized the opportunity, thrusting a knife through the gaps in his armor.
After several stabs, the guard went silent.
Immediately, someone started stripping his armor.
But more people followed the guy who snatched the guard's longsword, rushing together to hack at Ser Imry.
Ser Imry, attacked from front and back, could only shout desperately to his surroundings:
"Ser Davos... someone... save me..."
His voice was loud, a mix of fear and the desire to survive.
But Davos was willing but unable.
His opponent was as slippery as a loach, striking once and then retreating.
Davos had to shout:
"Dale! Go help Ser Imry!"
Afraid Dale couldn't hear, he shouted several times.
Once Dale heard clearly, he thrust his sword forward to scare off the boys eyeing him, then ran toward Ser Imry.
Seeing Dale about to ruin things, Matthew stuck out a foot and tripped him.
Dale hit the ground with a thud, sprawling on his back.
It was a heavy fall, kicking up quite a bit of dust.
Dale didn't recover for a long time, just lying there motionless.
"Are you okay?"
Matthew kicked Dale lightly, turning to face the enemies stirring behind him, protecting Dale while asking.
He wasn't a devil; naturally, he didn't want Dale to actually get hurt.
Kicked, Dale snapped out of his daze.
His head moved first, then he started coughing violently.
Hearing the coughing, Matthew knew he was probably fine, just winded from the fall.
At this moment, the Night's Watch traitors surrounding them hesitated, neither daring to advance nor wanting to leave.
Matthew decided to stall with them instead of helping Dale up.
Dale coughed for a long time before pushing himself up. His lips were covered in blood and mud.
Wiping his mouth with his palm, he tested his body.
His right knee was numb from the impact, and his lip hurt terribly, but it was bearable.
Ignoring the taste of rust in his mouth, Dale gritted his teeth, intending to get up and charge forward.
Little Fish noticed. He looked at Matthew and saw he was busy.
Thinking for a moment, he copied Matthew, sticking out his foot and hooking Dale's leg hard.
Dale fell again.
---
Ser Imry's voice was hoarse. Seeing no one coming to his rescue, he was terrified.
He swung his longsword wildly, abandoning all technique.
Before long, Ser Imry was forced to kneel, gasping for breath.
Seeing his hands trembling, the Night's Watch traitors slowly closed in again.
Ser Imry swung his sword in a circle once more.
But this time, no one backed away.
The traitors thrust their swords, striking his swinging blade hard.
The impact nearly knocked the sword from Imry's grip.
He was truly despairing.
Being surrounded and slowly whittled down by enemies was a helpless, terrifying feeling.
"Why hasn't anyone come to save me?"
Ser Imry let out a wail like a dying fox:
"If I die, House Florent will never let this go!"
The night wind blew, and the campfire crackled, accompanied by screams.
Everyone on the rocky beach heard it.
Suddenly, several people responded.
"Hold on, Ser Imry! I'm coming!"
"Damn mongrels, get out of my way!"
"Lord Imry, come toward us..."
Hearing this, Matthew clenched his fist, glancing sideways.
Seeing the attackers still hadn't finished the job, he wished he could do it himself.
But in the next moment, the enemies changed.
Suddenly, like a pack of wolves, they shouted with murderous intent:
"Get him! Kill him now!"
"Someone's coming to save him! If we don't kill him now, we get nothing..."
Some hesitated.
But greed prevailed for most.
Screaming, they charged.
Imry hadn't expected his words to spur the enemy on. His face turned pale instantly.
Retreating, he swung his sword with difficulty.
After cutting down three men, he grew slower and slower, barely able to lift his sword.
As Ser Imry struggled to swing his sword for the tenth time, someone jumped out from the side and hacked at his arm.
The heavy blow made Ser Imry scream and collapse to one knee.
The benefit of plate armor was solid protection.
The downside was inflexibility.
Leaning on his sword, Imry couldn't stand up immediately.
Then, a tall man with a scalp disease hugged him from behind, pinning his arms and rendering him powerless.
Others stabbed at him with longswords or daggers.
However, several strikes failed to pierce the armor, only sparking against the metal.
They weren't trying to kill him; they were fighting over the gems.
But Ser Imry was terrified.
Veins bulged on his forehead as he struggled with all his might.
He was like a pig being slaughtered, left with only the instinct to writhe, but the armor made it difficult.
In that moment, Ser Imry hated his armor and wished he could throw it far away.
He really didn't want to die.
But no one cared what Ser Imry thought anymore.
The more he struggled, the more frenzied the attackers became.
Amidst the cursing of the scald-headed man, a boy pried up the helmet from the side and plunged a knife into the small exposed gap at Ser Imry's neck.
Instantly, the noisy Ser Imry's eyes bulged, and blood gushed from his mouth.
He hadn't expected to actually die here.
Maybe he shouldn't have tried to prove himself by getting involved in this mess.
Blood flowed uncontrollably from his neck. Ser Imry felt regret, and the suffocating inability to breathe.
He felt worse and worse, his head swelling and spinning.
Gradually, he stopped moving. Pain and ambition faded as his hands fell to the ground.
Moments later, Dale limped to his feet, only to see a group of people stripping Ser Imry's armor.
And Ser Imry showed no reaction.
Instantly, Dale's eyes turned red, and the rage in his heart poured out.
"Ah! You damn vermin!"
Roaring, Dale dragged his right leg and charged forward swinging his sword.
But after killing two men, he was beaten back.
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CaveLeather