The Mountain's moves were wide and powerful.
Every swing of his chipped but incredibly heavy greatsword came with a shrieking wind, and those close enough could even smell the blood on the blade.
Clang————
Their swords clashed, and the immense force traveled up Jon's longsword, numbing both his forearms.
And this was after The Mountain had already expended most of his stamina. Jon chose to continue dodging and draining him.
Although soldiers on both sides occasionally gasped, no one dared shout. Jon's soldiers and nobles watched him dodge and weave, fearing they might distract him. The Mountain, meanwhile, hated noise. Coupled with his eye injury, any extraneous sound worsened his splitting headache.
Because Jon's side had a clear numerical advantage, cleaning up the battlefield went quickly.
When the distant soldiers and tribal warriors learned their commander was dueling the enemy commander, they rushed over.
"Can our Lord defeat that giant?"
"Nonsense! Our Lord is the only person in a hundred years to climb Fire-Cache Peak!"
Although they didn't know the specifics of the fight, the tribal warriors had great confidence in Jon.
Thud!
The Mountain's greatsword missed again, smashing heavily into the ground and kicking up a cloud of dust.
Jon seized the chance to kick a rock at The Mountain, hitting him squarely on the forehead.
"Is that all you have? I guess I can contact the Dornishmen to sell you now," Jon taunted, trying to enrage him further.
Honestly, The Mountain's moves were excellent in terms of raw power; his size and physical strength gave his martial skills a huge boost.
Apart from that, there wasn't much to write home about. This disappointed Jon somewhat. After becoming a [Sword Saint], it seemed he would be hard-pressed to find a worthy opponent in Westeros.
However, this world had magic—real magic. He still had to be careful.
"The Mountain is running out of stamina," Martyn said excitedly from the sidelines.
"Even with full stamina, he's no match for our Lord." Old York's confidence in Jon was restored to an even higher level.
Old York could see that although Jon kept dodging and blocking, it wasn't passive defense; it looked more like probing.
Though they were some distance away, Old York had good eyes. He could tell Jon kept talking to The Mountain.
Talking during a high-intensity duel significantly affects breathing control. In other words, Jon talking during the duel was him "showing off his margin for error." From the start, he hadn't been using his full strength.
Hearing Old York's explanation, Sora gradually relaxed.
"Jon isn't thinking of recruiting this guy, is he? Such a big guy would be formidable on the battlefield." Hakon looked at The Mountain with glowing eyes.
Since leaving the Mountains of the Moon, he realized there was always a higher mountain. His own martial skills were decent outside, but that was it.
He considered himself no match for either Jon or The Mountain. However, Hakon's words made Martyn uneasy.
The Mountain had killed so many commoners and Ser Raymun. If Jon really spared The Mountain, Martyn would never have the chance for revenge.
But he hadn't defeated The Mountain; he had no right to decide his fate. Thinking of this, Martyn felt dejected.
"ARGH——"
Suddenly, a scream pulled everyone back from their thoughts.
Jon had severed The Mountain's sword arm.
The Mountain clutched his arm, which was thicker than some people's thighs, howling as blood spurted out.
The blood spraying from the severed limb splattered onto his face, making him look even more terrifying.
For a swordsman, this meant he was finished. As for the Westerlands soldiers behind him, they fell into despair.
The Mountain was defeated; they could only become prisoners at the mercy of others.
The Mountain knelt before Jon, crying out, "I yield! Please, save me!" He squeezed his wrist, trying to stop the bleeding as he spoke.
The soldiers behind Jon were jubilant. Their commander had sealed the victory with one blow, meaning no more deaths, no more fighting for their lives.
At the same time, the soldiers looked at Jon with increasing fervor mixed with obvious awe.
Jon walked past The Mountain to address the Westerlands soldiers behind him: "Drop your weapons, remove your armor, and surrender where you stand!"
Seeing their commander begging for mercy, the soldiers dropped their weapons one by one.
With a series of clattering sounds, a group of Northern soldiers stepped forward to confiscate the weapons.
A second group of soldiers moved in to strip their armor. With this armor, Jon could build a heavy armored legion capable of dominating the battlefield.
"Victory?"
Seeing the scene before them, the others were somewhat dazed, but then burst into happy laughter.
Especially the tribal warriors, who wiggled their bodies on the spot as if about to dance.
Sora looked at Jon, the adoration in her eyes deepening. Jon had become an invincible, even omnipotent figure in her heart.
But suddenly, the situation changed!
The Mountain, who had been kneeling and begging for mercy, suddenly lunged at Jon.
"Jon!"
"My Lord!"
"Look out!"
In an instant, the nobles' faces turned pale.
The soldiers stripping armor stopped their work; everyone seemed frozen in time.
Jon had his back to The Mountain, wide open to attack.
Even unarmed, with The Mountain's massive body and shocking strength, Jon was in grave danger.
Just as everyone scrambled to save him, The Mountain's body froze. A bloody blade tip protruded from the back of his neck, having pierced through his throat.
God's Eye View—did you think I was joking?
Jon turned his head, looking coldly at The Mountain's single eye, which was filled with disbelief.
The Mountain couldn't understand. Jon had looked extremely relaxed, relaxed enough to turn his back on him. How could he deliver a fatal blow with such precision in an instant?
The Mountain couldn't figure it out, and he had no time or strength left to think.
A kaleidoscope of images flashed before his eyes.
He saw faces filled with terror, lives he had taken one by one.
Watching the life fade from The Mountain's single eye, Jon shoved the corpse aside with force. "What? Did you think a mere cripple could hurt me?"
Seeing Jon not only unharmed but having killed The Mountain in a counterattack, everyone was still shaken.
That move just now—no one could have dodged it! Let alone counter-kill like Jon did.
As for the newly surrendered soldiers, they lost any thought of resistance completely. This was actually a performance Jon had specifically designed.
If The Mountain hadn't attacked him, Jon would have imprisoned him and sold him to House Martell in Sunspear later.
If he attacked, Jon would use it to further demonstrate his martial prowess to others.
Now, the effect was remarkable. Not only did the Northern soldiers revere him like a god, but even the surrendered soldiers couldn't muster a single thought of rebellion.